


How To Be A Hero

by MermaidMarie



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Eventual Barry Allen/Oliver Queen, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 07:03:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 128,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8788225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MermaidMarie/pseuds/MermaidMarie
Summary: In which Barry Allen, after waking up from his coma, makes an impulse decision to move to Starling City.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Primarily following Season 3 Arrow, with some Season 1 Flash sprinkled in. I'm trying to follow canon as closely as I can, but who can say how long that'll last.

            In the midst of the newfound threats of a potential army arising, Oliver hadn’t noticed that something seemed like it was missing. He glanced around the foundry, frowning. “Where’s Barry?” he asked, trying to mask any emotion that might show through his façade. He really did feel bad about how he treated the kid. After all, Barry saved Oliver’s life. Not only did Oliver not thank him, he even threatened him.

            “He went back to Central City,” Felicity replied. “Wanted to get home in time to see them turn on the particle accelerator.”

            Oliver nodded. That made sense. Barry didn’t live in Starling City, of course he was going to leave soon. Oliver couldn’t place exactly why it bothered him, though. He certainly didn’t like or trust the kid at first, but after seeing him work, with his enthusiasm and his stubbornness and his desire to help people, Oliver had really seen him fit into the team.

            Felicity answered her phone, and it seemed like it was Barry on the other line. Oliver didn’t ask, though, and didn’t ask her to tell him thank you, or to tell him that he should stop by if he’s ever in Starling again. But Oliver was actually really hoping that Barry would be back in Starling again. Oliver could really use his skill set on the team, he told himself. That’s what it is. That's _all_ it was.

            Oliver found himself thinking about how Barry had stood up to him, insisting that he wouldn’t have told anyone his identity and calling Oliver out on how he was talking to Felicity. And how he’d called Oliver _Mr. Queen_ like it was an insult. Oliver could use someone who would keep him in check like that. Oliver had been surprised, a little angry even, at the time. But now all he could think of was the way Barry looked at him, daring him to argue back, with a kind of electric glare. Brave and defiant, maybe even a little reckless. It made Oliver wonder about everything he didn't know about Barry Allen. 

            Oliver listened to Felicity talk to Barry on the phone, took note of her voice and her tone, how it got soft and kind. Oliver felt a little tense, though he couldn’t quite place why. But that was just another reason that Barry would work well for the team, he supposed. Felicity could use someone around with her same light, who had the same optimism and faith that she had. Oliver could tell that she liked Barry, and Barry liked her, too. They would be right together. They just fit, in a way. Oliver felt a little uneasy at the thought, but he resigned himself to it.

            Felicity told him Barry had left him a gift, and his guilt over how he spoke to Barry got worse.

            He pulled the mask out of the box, admiring it. Barry was too kind, too forgiving, if he’d made this even after Oliver had been such a jerk. Maybe it was for the best that the kid was from Central City, where the sun is always shining and the crime rates are always down, Oliver thought to himself. Barry is too good for Starling City. Too good for Oliver and his mission.

            “Even the Arrow deserves a Christmas present,” Diggle said.

            Oliver wasn’t so convinced. But he smiled, barely. Next time he saw Barry, he would thank him, for saving his life and for the mask. Next time he saw Barry, he’d try to be kind. He’d swallow his pride, he’d apologize for his behavior. He pulled the mask over his face, feeling warm and proud.

            “How do I look?” Oliver said, with a small smirk.

            “Like a hero,” Felicity replied.

            Only because of Barry, Oliver thought to himself. But he supposed if people like Felicity and Barry could see him as a hero, maybe he could really be one.

            He didn’t find out what happened to Barry until the next day.

 

\---

 

            Barry Allen walked into his lab at the Central City Police Department with a sigh, seeing the water pooling on the floor from the leak. Of course. It just wasn’t his day today. He ran after a mugger for Iris only to get punched, and Felicity, the other girl he could have feelings for, lived in another city and liked someone else. Someone he couldn’t even begin to compete with.  _Yeah,_ he thought.  _It's been a really, really long day._

            Barry rubbed the back of his neck, feeling tired and drained. He pinned another newspaper scrap to his ever-growing board where he tracks any and all strange occurrences, desperately trying to prove his father’s innocence. He could usually maintain some hope and optimism, but right then, it all just felt a little hopeless.

            He tried to shake off his mood by thinking of some recent developments in his search. It had been an eventful- and _exciting-_ trip to Starling City. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was hoping from the trip, but this was certainly above and beyond his highest possible expectations.

            So yeah, it hadn’t really brought him closer to solving his mother’s murder. But he had met the Starling City Vigilante. He helped save the vigilante’s _life._ Barry had actually been a part of that rather than just a spectator.

            He was still reeling from that newfound knowledge. Oliver Queen, billionaire playboy who had been presumed dead for five years. Oliver Queen, who was rescued from the island he was stranded on, whose mother had helped cause the destruction of the Glades. Oliver Queen, whose reputation is so far-reaching that Iris has a schoolgirl crush on him (not that it _bothers_ Barry or anything, of course.) Oliver Queen, who is cold and untrusting and who rarely smiles, but who is trying to make the world better. He’s the vigilante, a _hero_ \- and Barry met him. Barry _helped_ him. And now, Barry Allen got to keep one of the most amazing secrets ever. He got to be one of the few who know the vigilante’s true identity. It was an honor that Barry would not take lightly.

            Even if it seemed like Oliver wasn’t all that fond of him, it was still _amazing._ Barry let out a sigh, feeling a little better. It hadn’t been a great day, but it would be alright. After all these years of searching for the impossible and the extraordinary, Barry became a part of something bigger, even if it was just in some small way. He’d certainly take being a minor character in the story of the Arrow over being the main character in the tragic story of the boy whose mother died and whose father got blamed for it. Barry, ever the optimist, really felt like his life was starting to look up, in a way he might not even fully understand yet. He found himself wondering if Oliver had gotten the mask yet, if he liked it.

            But Barry was shaken out of these thoughts by the news announcing that something was wrong with the particle accelerator. He felt a twinge of fear, of shock- then the power cut out, and he saw the flash of light from S.T.A.R. Labs. 

            That’s when the lightning hit, and everything went dark.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking place Arrow 3.01 and The Flash 1.01, Oliver Queen struggles with his feelings, and Barry Allen wakes up from his coma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how long exactly I'm intending this story to be. I'm sorry the exposition is taking up the first three chapters.

            Losing his family’s company to Ray Palmer was a blow to Oliver’s pride. Having to give up Felicity after barely one date hurt. Seeing Diggle in a life Oliver couldn't begin to dream of was painful. It was probably for the best, but after finally believing that he could maybe be the Arrow and still be happy, it was a crushing realization.

            Being Oliver Queen was getting harder and harder. Two years in, and he still couldn’t balance his two lives, not even when most of the important people knew his secret. It was all too hard.

            He wondered why he even bothered taking off the mask anymore.

            Sara’s words echoed in his mind. _Word of advice? We’re not our masks. And we need people in our lives who don’t wear one._

            It was a nice thought, anyway. But Oliver was feeling more and more like he was the mask, and that was all he was. Maybe he should just start accepting that. 

            “We need to talk,” Oliver told Felicity in the hospital. He’d seen Diggle and Lyla and their baby. He knew his life could never be like that. He knew that Felicity deserved that life. This was logical. It was reasonable. It was the right thing to do. 

            Felicity paused, with a sharp inhale. “I don’t want to talk,” she replied. “Which, for me, I know is a little unprecedented, but…” She sighed. “As soon as we talk, it’s over.”

            Oliver saw the tears. He heard her voice break. He told himself to remain calm, remain objective. He knew what he had to do. “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “I thought that I could be me and the Arrow, but I can’t. Not now.” He paused, his heart feeling heavy in his chest. “Maybe not ever.”

            “Then say never,” Felicity replied, her voice angry and hurt. She glared straight in his eyes, like a challenge. “Stop dangling maybes. Say it’s never going to work out between us. Say you never loved me, say-”

            “Felicity,” Oliver breathed, pressing his lips to hers. It hurt how much he wanted this, and how much he couldn’t have it. He let himself linger for a moment before forcing himself to pull away. “Don’t ask me to say that I don’t love you.”

            Felicity looked back at him, a range of emotions in her eyes, from anger to bitterness to sadness. “I told you as soon as we talked… it would be over.” She stepped away from him. She didn't look back. 

            Oliver had never seen her look at him like that. He watched her walk away, heart aching. And then his phone rang.

            “Hello?” he said, barely able to keep his voice from shaking.

            “It’s Barry. Barry Allen.”

            Oliver’s breath caught in his throat. Today of all days. He barely thought Barry would ever wake up, and now his voice was on the line. At least he had this. 

            “I woke up. I could use some advice.”

            Oliver couldn’t imagine why Barry would be coming to him. But it didn’t matter. “I’ll be right there.”

 --- 

            Barry felt a little like he was underwater. He could hear voices, a man and a woman. They sounded far away, disconnected, like an echo. Barry tried to open his eyes, and only succeeded in fluttering his eyelids. He couldn’t make out anything in particular- just colors, and blurs. He couldn’t move yet, like he was made of lead.

            He had experiences similar to this before- sleep paralysis was what it was called, he remembered. It used to happen to him a lot when he was a kid, he’d wake up, but only sort of. He would _feel_ awake, but he couldn’t move, except maybe to open his eyes. It used to happen almost daily in the weeks after his mother’s death. He’d open his eyes, unable to move, completely frozen- and his dreams would invade the real world. He could see the man in the lightning, swirling around his bedroom, taunting him.

            This time felt different than that. The two voices in the room, faraway as they sounded, still sounded real. He didn’t think he was dreaming or hallucinating. He just felt cloudy, in a way.

            Finally, his eyes shot open, and he leaned up quickly, gasping for air. He was awake, so awake.

            “Where am I?” he asked, instinctively tugging at the wires and tubes on his body. It had always bothered him that characters in movies would wake up after an accident and tear their IV’s out of their arms, but at that moment, he completely understood it.  

            The two other people in the room- Caitlin and Cisco were their names, he discovered- began hovering around him, saying things that didn’t quite register, didn't quite make sense. Barry stood, a little disoriented, a lot overwhelmed, as everything was explained to him. Struck by lightning, in a coma, nine months, something went wrong with the particle accelerator- and then Harrison Wells mentioned Iris.

_Iris._

            He had to go see her- like, now, right that second. Nothing made sense at that moment. He could barely catch his breath. He needed to see her.

            He got to Jitters, and Iris looked at him like he’d come back from the dead. Maybe that’s how it felt. She threw her arms around him, and Barry hugged her back with a smile.

            She pulled away, keeping a hand on his arm, her smile warm. “Barry,” she breathed. “You’re awake. You’re _alive._ ”

            “Yeah,” he replied, feeling his heart swell. “Yeah.” So that was at least one thing that really hadn’t changed in the last nine months. He still loved her so, so much. And for a second, it looked like she loved him, too.

            But that’s where the things that made sense to Barry stopped. He was itching to get back to work, to move, to do _something_. It certainly didn’t feel like what he would’ve imagined coming out of a coma to be like.

            But then again, it was established pretty quickly that this had not been an ordinary coma. And Barry, it seemed, was no longer an ordinary person. The rest of the day was a whirlwind. Finding out how fast he could run, and then how fast he could heal- Barry was exhilarated. He was a firm believer that the impossible existed, that it was out there. But now he had proof. He had become the impossible. He felt almost like he could fly. It was the best he’d felt in a long time.

            And after that, the day fell apart. Harsh truths piled on Barry, one after the other. Iris had a boyfriend, and when Barry saw her kiss him, he felt his heart shatter. Strike one.

            Then Joe didn’t believe Barry, not about the man controlling the weather, not about his father’s innocence. Still, always, Joe’s words stung. Strike two.

            Then Harrison Wells- once Barry’s idol, now partly the cause of all this, the residual damage to the city. His words stung, too- _You’re not a hero. You’re just a young man who was struck by lightning._ Strike three.

            He couldn’t be in Central City right then. The sunlight felt heavy, the city felt like it was closing in on him. He was claustrophobic and he was restless. He had to get out. None of this felt right, _none of it._ Barry couldn’t handle it. And there was only one person who he knew could help him with this.

            He ran straight to Starling City- and how _cool_ was it that he could do that now- away from all the people who doubt him, away from all the things he still can’t do or can’t be. He paused only briefly to look at the sign marking Starling City, before running, running straight to where he had told Oliver to meet him. And he spilled everything out to the Arrow, to Oliver. His story, his doubts, his fears. It all came out so easily.

            And Oliver listened, patiently, quietly, without judgment or doubt. He waited until Barry was finished to pull his hood off and ask, “So why come to me?” He offered a gentle smile, trying to encourage Barry to say what he really came here for. “Something tells me you didn’t just run six hundred miles to say hi to a friend.”

            “All my life I’ve wanted to do more. _Be_ more. And now I am, but…” Barry said, and he struggled for a moment to find the words. “The first chance I get to help someone, I screw up.”

            Oliver opened his mouth briefly but didn’t say anything, just feels a distinct understanding. He knows what that’s like. Barry could’ve used some of that understanding in Central City.

            “What if Wells is right?” Barry continued. “What if I’m not a hero? What if I’m just some guy who was struck by lightning?”

            Oliver responded easily, no hesitation. “I don’t think that bolt of lightning struck you, Barry. I think it chose you.”

            Barry was a little surprised by Oliver’s kindness and faith for a moment, especially after what he was like when they met, but then he simply shook his head. “I’m just not sure I’m like you, Oliver. I don’t know if I can be some vigilante.”

            Oliver heard the self-doubt and the insecurity, and he reached out to touch Barry’s shoulder. “You can be _better_ ,” he insisted. He swallowed and took a breath. “Because you can inspire people in a way that I never could. Watching over your city like a guardian angel. Making a difference, saving people, in a flash.” Oliver squeezed Barry’s shoulder and smiled before turning away.

            “Wait,” Barry said. “I don’t know if I can do this on my own.” He felt a little pathetic, a little desperate, saying it out loud. But it was true. He needed something, someone- he needed _Oliver._

            Oliver hesitated, unsure of where this was going, and he turned to face Barry again, who was looking at him with watery eyes. “Barry-” he started, a hint of a warning creeping into his tone.

            “Can you teach me?” Barry interrupted, taking a step forward. “You work with a team, right?” Oliver couldn’t help but hear what he was implying, but he tried to push down the second of hope he had that Barry might want to stay and work with him.

            “I wouldn’t know how to use your powers any better than you would,” Oliver pointed out. It wasn't like he had experience in this particular area, anyway. He would only disappoint Barry if he tried to help.

            “Not how to use my powers,” Barry clarified. “How to be a hero.”

            That gave Oliver pause. He couldn't help but feel both touched and a little ashamed that Barry thought of him as a hero. He certainly didn't think of himself as a hero at that moment. But that’s not what he said to Barry. “You live six hundred miles away,” he pointed out instead.

            Barry grinned, and straightened his posture. “I think I can handle the commute, actually.”

            Oliver chuckled, shaking his head slightly at the cockiness in Barry’s tone. “I don’t know how much of a help I’ll be, but you’re welcome here any time, Barry,” he said, turning and walking towards the edge of the roof.

            Oliver hesitated for a moment, trying desperately to find the words to apologize for how he treated Barry nine months ago, and trying to find the words to thank him like he should have at the time. The kid saved his life and made him a gift even after how he acted. Barry deserved a thank you, he deserved an apology. But Oliver wasn’t great at swallowing his pride and mustering up sincerity, so that’s not what came out.

            “Take your own advice, though, Barry. Wear a mask.” He shot Barry one last smirk before jumping away. He hoped that Barry could at least read his gratitude for the mask. It seemed a little too late to apologize at this point anyway.

            Barry watched him shoot his arrow, swinging up the side of a building, full of awe. “Cool,” he breathed, before speeding back towards Central City. _Oliver was wearing the mask_ , he thought to himself, feeling warm.

            Oliver watched him leave, full of admiration. “Cool,” he couldn’t help but say in awe. Oliver made his way back to the Arrow Cave- he had _got_ to stop calling it that- and he thought about Barry.

            He hadn’t questioned it, when Barry called, hadn’t asked what Barry was doing in Starling, hadn’t asked when he’d woken up from the coma, if he was okay. He just made it to the rooftop. He knew when he met Barry nine months ago that the kid was different, that he was special. But this was something else entirely.

            Oliver hoped that he’d said the right things, that he’d said enough. Being encouraging and kind wasn’t always his strong suit, but it was obvious that Barry needed something. How anyone could tell Barry that he wasn’t a hero was baffling to Oliver. He just hoped that he had managed to be the right person for Barry to come to.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shortly after The Flash 1.01, Barry decides he can't stay in Central City, and starts to say his goodbyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm writing this story faster than I anticipated.

            Stopping the tornado that the meta-human created with the help of Cisco and Caitlin felt good. So did putting on the suit and the mask that Cisco made. The validation of Dr. Wells, the feeling of being believed in, all of it felt amazing. Nothing was quite like Joe finally believing him, though. Joe finally took him seriously, finally believed his father’s innocence. Barry felt like he could actually do something, finally. He felt like the world was at his feet. He felt like a hero.

            And Dr. Wells, Caitlin, and Cisco all seemed to feel that way, too, like they could make a difference. Like they could all fix what had happened as best they could. For a moment, Barry thought it could work. He really wanted it to.

            But he didn’t- couldn’t, really- trust Harrison Wells. His faith was not fully lost in S.T.A.R. Labs or in Dr. Wells. He believed in second chances, after all. But he didn’t think he could learn what he needed to there, not really, not after what happened.

            Here’s what Barry hadn’t told anyone. The first chance he got, he sent a resume and a job application to the Starling City Police Department to be a CSI there. He technically still had a job at the Central City Police Department, but they had already essentially replaced him. They couldn’t really wait for him to come out of the coma, not when no one was ever sure if he even would. If he wanted to go back, they’d welcome him, but they didn’t need him anymore.

            He also went online to look for apartments for rent in Starling. He felt, deep down, that that was where he needed to be, what he needed to do. Central City didn’t need him. Clearly, even with the rise in meta-humans, they had done fine without him these past nine months. Barry just knew that this was what he had to do. He couldn’t stay in Central City anymore. It was even hard for him to really understand, but he knew when something wasn’t right anymore. He could feel it in his bones, in the way his skin itched to run away.

            Something had changed for Barry, and Central City felt wrong now. He couldn’t stay with S.T.A.R. Labs, not when he didn’t trust Wells. He was grateful that Joe believed him now, but that didn’t completely erase the years of doubt he’d gotten.

            After going to prison, his father used to encourage him to start a life outside of Central City, where the weight of all that had happened wouldn’t follow him around. He didn’t see that until now, but he needed a fresh start, where the years of doubt and being told he was crazy wouldn’t be hanging over him. Where the man in yellow wouldn't haunt him at every turn.

            And then there was Iris. Barry knew leaving would hurt her, almost as much as it would hurt him, but he needed some distance. He had promised Joe that he wouldn’t tell her what he could do, who he was, and that was going to be hard enough already. The other issue was that he couldn’t just watch her be with Eddie. It hurt too much, and he would never get over her if he was constantly around her. To avoid letting her know about his powers and to give himself the possibility of getting over her, he had to leave.

            And then, of course, there was Oliver Queen. Barry remembered what it was like to work with the Arrow. There was nothing like it.

            Everything in Barry knew this was the right decision. So a few days later, when he got the interview and then promptly the job offer from the SCPD, he didn’t hesitate. He started packing almost immediately, before he even told anyone. He was going to have a lot of explaining to do.

 ---

            Barry’s plans to move were almost entirely finalized, and he had yet to tell anyone. He found himself running to S.T.A.R. Labs to get probably the easiest conversation out of the way. When he got there, Caitlin and Cisco were at their work stations, and Dr. Wells was nowhere to be found.

            “Barry!” Caitlin greeted, looking over at him. “We weren’t expecting you yet.”

            Barry let out a nervous laugh, running his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, I, uh. I came to see if, uh, if,” he said, stumbling badly over his words. “Were there, uh, any other tests you needed to run?”

            Caitlin frowned, confused. “No, I think we just about covered them all the last couple days. You’re good to go.” Her voice was gentle, maybe even a little concerned.

            “Great, uh, that’s good to know,” Barry said, really not sure how to continue. If it was this hard with almost complete strangers, he could only imagine how hard it was going to be to tell Iris.

            “Barry, now that you’re here, you gotta see what I did with the suit,” Cisco said excitedly. “I adjusted the communications device-”

            “Uh, Cisco, I-” Barry interrupted. He already felt guilty about the work the guy had put it. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

            “What? Did you change your mind?” Cisco asked, incredulous. “But stopping that tornado, that was so awesome, right? If you’re changing your mind, dude, I think you’re making a mistake.”

            “It’s not that, not exactly,” Barry admitted. “I’m not actually going to be sticking around Central City.”

            “What do you mean?” Caitlin asked, crossing her arms.

            “I’m moving,” he said quickly. “To Starling. Got a job as a full CSI at the Starling City Police Department. I actually leave tomorrow.”

            “Dude, no fair,” Cisco said. “How are we gonna be a comic book superhero team now?”

            “I’m sorry,” Barry replied, sincerely. He already felt guilty.  

            Cisco shot him a glare. “Well, I can’t be mad if you look like a kicked puppy,” he said. He paused a minute before groaning. “Alright, alright, it’s possible I’ll regret this, but look. If you’re really leaving, take the suit with you.”

            “You sure?” Barry asked.

            Cisco nodded. “I mean, you owe me big time,” he said, grinning. “But this suit was altered for you specifically. Wouldn’t want it to go to waste.”

            “Thanks, man,” Barry said, smiling a little sadly. He was almost regretting his decision, seeing how easily he could become friends with Cisco.

            Cisco walked over and gave Barry a hug. “I realize you just met us, but we’ve actually already been hanging out for months. So I’ll miss you.”

            Caitlin followed Cisco’s lead and gave Barry a hug after he had pulled away. “Feel free to come back and visit. And I do mean regularly, because I’m your doctor and I’ll need to monitor you a little. So, frequent check-ups, remember that.”

            Barry laughed and smiled. “I’ll be sure to.”

            “Good,” Caitlin said, pulling away and giving a stiff smile.

            “It’s not goodbye forever, though,” Barry added. “If you need help with a meta-human, just call me, and I’ll be back in a flash.” He shot a grin.

            Cisco laughed. “We’ll be calling you a lot, then.”

            Barry smiled, feeling a little shy for a moment. “Well, I should be going, I really need to pack,” he said, ducking his head and walking towards the exit. “Oh, uh, tell Dr. Wells bye for me.”

 ---

            Eobard Thawne stood, arms crossed, staring at the article in front of him. Well, at least the future remained intact, even if the present was proving to be a little difficult. Barry Allen was finally the Flash, and according to Caitlin and Cisco, he was running off to Starling.

            This complicated things for Eobard. He had been intending to train Barry so that he could monitor his progress. He needed to know when Barry got fast enough so that he could use that speed to get back to his time.

            Eobard Thawne sighed. Gideon had checked for him; the future remained intact. This was what he kept reminding himself, saying it like a mantra. It would all still work out. He would be able to figure out how to get back to his time.

            Barry needed Harrison Wells, anyway. How did he expect to learn how to use his powers in Starling City anyway? He would be back. Eobard would make sure of that, if he could help it.

            If he was lucky, the Arrow would drive Barry Allen back to Central City soon enough. Barry wasn’t cut out to deal with that brand of vigilantism. He was too soft. This whim of his certainly couldn’t last.

            After all, the author of the article was still “Iris West-Allen.” Barry would be back.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Barry Allen finishes his goodbyes, and moves to Starling City.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for more Oliver Queen next chapter.

            Even though Barry hadn’t actually gone back to work since he woke up, he still technically had to quit. If only out of courtesy, at this point. So he went to the police station to do just that. Once he was done talking to the captain, who was frankly not too sad to see him go, he was walking towards the exit when he ran right into Joe and Eddie.

            “Barry,” Joe said, surprised. “You’re back at work?”

            “Um, not exactly, no,” Barry replied. He really didn’t want to do this here. He glanced at Eddie, who looked incredibly uncomfortable. It didn’t exactly make Barry feel more relaxed, either.

            “You alright?” Joe asked, concern in his voice.

            “Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Barry replied. This wasn’t ideal, he thought, but there was never going to be a good time and place to have this conversation. Might as well. He took a deep breath, bracing himself for the worst. “Listen, I have something to tell you.”

            “Sure, anything,” Joe said. He said a quick goodbye to Eddie, who seemed more than happy to escape, and then led Barry off to the side of the room. “What’s going on?”

            “I’m, um, I’m not coming back to work here,” Barry said carefully. It seemed like a good place to start, anyway.

            “What do you mean?” Joe asked, furrowed brow. He put his hand on Barry’s shoulder, and Barry wanted to cry. “Barry, what’s going on?”

            “I got a job,” he said, and then paused to work up the courage to continue. “As a full CSI, in Starling City.”

            “What? Why?” Joe sounded so confused and a little upset, and Barry felt guilt in the pit of his stomach.

            “I can’t stay here, Joe,” Barry confessed, voice low and urgent. He wanted Joe to understand. He _needed_ Joe to understand. “I need some space. I need a change.”

            “Alright, Barry, if that’s what you need,” Joe said, seeing the desperation in Barry's eyes and pulling him into a tight hug. Barry was relieved that Joe didn’t press for more concrete reasons. “You know I support you no matter what, right?”

            “Yeah, Joe, I know,” Barry replied, hugging his foster father back and feeling tears stinging the corners of his eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to get them to go away.

            “You’ll come back for holidays?”

            “Of course.” He couldn't really imagine a holiday without Joe and Iris. His heart felt heavy just thinking about it. 

            Joe pulled away, looking Barry in the eyes. He squeezed the kid’s shoulder, at once sad to see him leave and proud that he was brave enough to do this. “Have you told Iris?”

            Barry grimaced and shook his head. “I’m kind of dreading it.”

            Joe chuckled. “Yeah, good luck, kid.”

 --- 

            Barry sat at Jitters, tapping the side of his coffee cup nervously. He’d called Iris to meet him here, and he was so nervous that he ended up getting to Jitters twenty minutes early. Which is saying something, since Barry has never been early to anything in his life. He decided it was vastly over-rated, as he checked his watch again. Being early is way more stressful than being late. At least when you’re late, you just have to keep going faster. Being early just means you’re waiting. Barry was never good at sitting still.

            “Barry!” Iris called as she walked in. She smiled at him warmly and gave him a quick hug. “I’m going to go order my coffee, I’ll be right back.”

            Great, more waiting. Barry watched as Iris spoke to the barista, and his heart began to ache. How was he supposed to leave her? How could he actually do it? He wasn’t convinced he was strong enough to walk away from her. He knew it would be for the best if they both had some distance for a while, but, _god_ , it was hard to look at her and think about leaving. Barry found himself seriously considering staying, even though his apartment was almost completely packed. But it was Iris, it’s always Iris.

            He had already found a new place in Starling City, and it was all ready for him to move in. Everything was in order, really, he was ready to leave. But he still couldn’t imagine actually leaving as he looked at Iris- beautiful, kind, warm Iris. The only person Barry had ever been in love with. A painful, unrequited love, but still.

            She walked back over to the table with her coffee, smiling. “I’m glad you called, Barry,” she said, her voice light and sweet as always. “So do you need me to catch you up on all the things you missed in the past nine months?” 

            Barry laughed, but it was strained and nervous. He couldn’t stand this.

            Iris almost immediately saw that something was wrong. She frowned a little. “Barry?” she prompted.

            “Um, yeah,” Barry started, eyes downcast. _I can’t even look her in the eyes._ “I needed to talk to you about something.”

            “What is it?” she replied cautiously. She crossed her arms over her chest.

            _I love you._ “I’m moving,” he said quickly, glancing up briefly to meet her eyes. “To Starling City.”

            “What?” she said, her tone shocked, maybe even angry. Barry immediately felt his heart drop. He already hated this. It _hurt._

            “I’m going to be working as a CSI for the SCPD. Not an assistant anymore,” he said, quickly, hoping that she’d take that as a good enough reason.

            No such luck. “Barry, that’s six hundred miles away. Why?”

            “I, um, I just need this. I can’t really explain,” he said, his voice soft and small. It wasn’t exactly a lie. Not exactly. This time, the tears stinging his eyes began to fall. He brushed them away quickly.

            “Well, try,” Iris shot back, leaning forward. “If my best friend is leaving after nine months in a coma, I feel like I need an explanation.” She paused a moment, looking pained, and her voice got softer. “I just got you back, Barry.”

            Barry looked at her, helpless. He could’ve just told her. It would’ve been so easy. He could’ve told her that he got superpowers, he could’ve told her that Central City has too many reminders of his past, he could’ve told her that he’s been in love with her forever and he needed room to move on. She would have understood. Wouldn’t she? “I don’t know,” he settled with. “After the coma, I just feel like I need a change. I can’t stay here, Iris, I really can’t.” He hoped that was enough.

            Iris’ expression softened, looking sad rather than angry, and she reached out to place her hand on his. “I didn’t know you felt like that.” She sounded almost guilty.

            Barry shook his head. “Neither did I, really. It’s just something I need to do.”

            Iris nodded. “Well, I can’t say that I’m happy about it.” She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

            He tried to smile back at her. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

\---

            Barry dropped his luggage in his new apartment, taking a deep breath. He’d done it, he was here. It struck him how hard it was to leave at first, but the farther he got from Central City, the easier and easier it got. Once he was finally here, he didn’t have any lingering concern that this was the wrong decision. He only felt relieved, to be away from all the baggage he left in Central City.

            He began unpacking, slowly at first, until he remembered his speed. He grinned as he shot around the room, and it was all unpacked and set up in minutes. He collapsed onto his couch and let out a sigh of relief. He was _here_ , finally.

            He hadn’t actually told Oliver that he was going to move here. Or, now, that he actually had. He hadn’t told Felicity either. He didn’t really plan to, at least for a week or so. He wanted to give himself a chance to settle in, find a new coffee shop to hang out at, settle into a routine at work. Make this city feel like home. 

            He didn’t really know how Oliver would react. He’d barely thought about it. The idea of training and working with the Arrow is what sparked his decision, but it was far from his only motivation for moving here, or even his primary one.

            He’d get to telling Oliver eventually. Probably. Maybe. At that moment, the thought of telling Oliver freaked him out a little. Okay, maybe a lot. Yeah, the guy was nice to him on the roof, and he was really the most helpful person he’d spoken to so far. Oliver made him feel like he actually could be a hero. After Iris and Joe and Wells, Oliver was the only one who seemed to actually believe in Barry without having to be argued with or convinced. He just _did._ Barry wasn’t used to that.

            But nine months ago, Oliver wasn’t exactly warm and welcoming. He didn’t even want Barry to know his secret- he’d been furious. Barry supposed he didn’t know what could have changed since then, but it was hard to forget that Oliver did imply that killing him was an option. Barry brought his hand up to his neck at the memory of Oliver waking up and immediately trying to strangle him. Not exactly a good sign. Oliver seemed kind and warm now, but… Barry was pretty sure that nine months ago, Oliver hated him. At least a little.

            Maybe he’d just put off talking to Oliver. It might be enough to just live in a city with the Arrow for a while. That might be enough, right? Barry would just lie low for a while, he decided. He didn't need to become a hero all at once. The next day was his first day of work at the SCPD, so he already had enough to deal with there anyway.

            He relaxed into his new place, feeling the best he had since waking up, and he fell asleep on the couch, into a deep, dreamless sleep.

\---

            Barry Allen walked into the police department for his first day, only five minutes late, messenger bag over his shoulder. He was nervous. He’d never gone to a brand new job like this before. When he started at the Central City Police Department, he was nervous, but he had Joe there. This was all sort of new to him. He tried to smile at people as he walked in, accidentally bumping into at least three people who glared as he stuttered out apologies.

            “Mr. Allen,” a voice called to him.

            Barry turned quickly to see to police captain, Quentin Lance, offering him a small smile. “Captain Lance,” he replied, offering his hand.

            “I was surprised to hear from you,” Captain Lance replied, shaking it. “Last I heard, you’d been hit by lightning.”

            Barry chuckled nervously. “I wasn’t sure if you remembered me.” Actually, Barry was kind of hoping the captain wouldn’t remember him.

            “Sure, you’re the kid who helped out on that case nine months ago,” Lance replied. “Felicity mentioned your coma.”

            “Well, I’m awake now,” Barry said with a smile. _Felicity._ He really would have to tell her about his move at some point. She might not even know he’s out of his coma, unless Oliver told her.

            “So you are. Let me show you to the forensics lab,” Lance said, leading Barry up a flight of stairs.

            “I heard you disbanded the anti-vigilante task force,” Barry commented as he followed.

            “Well, after all the Arrow has done, it seemed like the right thing to do,” Lance said. His voice was tense, like he was expecting an argument.

            “I’d have to agree,” Barry replied. He couldn’t help but wonder how much Captain Lance really knew about the Arrow. He didn’t know the vigilante’s true identity nine months ago when Barry was last here, but a lot can happen in that time. He was tempted to ask, but he figured it’d be safer not to.

            Even if he wanted to ask, he couldn’t because right then, a girl walked over, looking distressed. “Dad,” she said. “I need to talk to you.” She glanced briefly at Barry, not seeming to register his presence.

            Captain Lance frowned, looking concerned. “Well, welcome to Starling, Mr. Allen,” he said, walking away briskly.

            Barry took a deep breath and put his bag down at his desk, where there were already several files for him to get started on. He hadn’t quite taken into account the fact that Starling has a lot more crime than Central. It’d have to be an adjustment.

           It didn't matter. He would adjust. He was finally here. He could finally breathe. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking place Arrow 3.02, immediately following Sara's death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to add an angst tag because of this chapter.

            Oliver stared at the body of the girl he once loved, cold and bloody on the table in the foundry. Laurel looked at him pleadingly, but Oliver was powerless. There was nothing he could do except swallow his sadness. He gently closed Sara’s eyes before wrapping his arms around Laurel. She didn’t deserve this.

            She cried into his shoulder, and he whispered, “I’m sorry,” as though it could possibly help. “I’m so sorry.”

            It wasn’t okay. None of this was okay.

            Once the shock wore off, the sadness and anger really hit. They couldn’t stay there staring at Sara’s lifeless body forever. Oliver knew that whoever killed Sara was out there. As hard as it was, he knew that delaying would only end up benefitting the killer. He had to get moving, soon. He couldn’t give Sara’s killer any time to breathe or get away. 

            He stood on the rooftop, meticulously going over the scene, watching Sara’s murder play out in his head, over and over. Watching Sara fall over and over. 

            Diggle walked up behind him, face grim. “Felicity told me,” he said. “You okay?”

            Oliver nodded and swallowed, feeling tears stinging and willing them away. He couldn’t let himself fall apart. He had to do this. “Killer stood there,” he said, pointing. He went through the scene, explaining the murder, how it happened, where Sara was standing. The last place Sara was standing.

            “Oliver,” Diggle interrupted. “You don’t have to do this right now, man.”

            “It’s the only thing that I can do,” Oliver replied.  _It won't bring Sara back._

            Life didn’t stop for tragedy. Villains didn’t pause to give you time to grieve. Oliver knew this. He couldn’t stop. He just couldn’t. He didn’t have time to fall apart.

            The hardest part was talking to Lance as the Arrow. Hearing his voice, hearing him talk as though his daughter wasn’t dead. Oliver almost envied Quentin's ignorance. Oliver couldn’t tell him what happened. The Arrow couldn’t, either. He had to stay on task. Focus, do the job, go after the other archer. There was no time to stop.

            “Hey, wait,” Lance said as Oliver started to turn away.

            Oliver’s chest tightened as he stopped and turned back slightly. He dreaded any question Lance might ask. He didn’t want to tell him.

            “The CSI working on this case,” Quentin said, and Oliver let out a quiet breath of relief. “He seems to know a hell of a lot about it. Smart kid. I’d tell you what he said, but to be honest, I didn’t understand half of it. You might want to pay him a visit. Kid named Allen.”

            Oliver stopped. Frowned. “Allen?”  _There's no way._

            “Yeah, new guy. Just transferred from Central City,” Lance replied, assuming that the Arrow’s pause was about not recognizing the name.

            “I’ll look into it,” Oliver replied, voice deep and unrecognizable. _Central City?_  If the new CSI is Barry Allen, that kid has some ridiculous timing, Oliver thought to himself. Either way, he couldn’t afford any distractions. He didn’t follow Lance’s advice, instead heading back to the foundry.

            “Any idea what other archer could’ve done this?” Diggle asked, trailing behind him.

            “There aren’t that many of us,” Oliver replied, frustrated. He couldn’t solve this fast enough. He wasn’t good enough. “Maybe ten, that I know of, and most of them are in the League of Assassins. They don't go after their own.”

            Roy finished up bagging the evidence on the table next to Sara’s body, carefully removing the latex gloves from his hands. He glanced up at Oliver. “We could really use a forensics guy right now,” he said, sounding as frustrated as Oliver felt. “That’s how the police make sense of all this, right?” He gestured vaguely. 

            Oliver hesitated. Roy said it casually, no meaning behind it. Just out of a feeling of hopelessness. But he did have a point. And with Laurel’s grief, and the tension between him and Felicity, and Diggle’s new fatherhood, and Roy’s moping over Thea, Oliver felt as alone as he had on the island. Maybe he could use a friend. Maybe someone that he didn’t have to be strong for.

            If it even was Barry, and not some other CSI from Central City named Allen. If Barry would even agree to help. If it was him, after all, he hadn’t told Oliver he was coming to Starling. Maybe he didn’t want to see Oliver. 

            Oliver hadn’t spoken to Barry since the night on the roof. He hadn’t even told anyone he’d heard from Barry, that Barry was even awake. But maybe it was worth a shot. It was Sara, after all. Maybe he needed all the help he could get.

            “I might know someone who could help,” Oliver said quietly. “I’ll be back.” And he walked quickly out of the room, before anyone could question him. He made his way to the Starling City Police Department, hoping that if it was Barry Allen, he’d had to stay at work late.

            He slipped into the forensics lab, quietly, after he’d gotten the lights off. He gripped his bow and kept his head ducked, knowing the danger of walking into the police department in his Arrow suit, even with the anti-vigilante task force disbanded.

            “Hello?” he heard a man’s voice call out. A voice he recognized.

            _He’s here. What the hell is he doing here?_

            Oliver suppressed his questions. There wasn’t any time for that. He pulled his hood back and carefully walked towards the voice.

            “Barry?” he said, not using the voice modifier.

            There was no response for a moment, and Oliver stiffened, worried that he’d misheard and that he’d just revealed himself to a stranger. But then- “Oliver?” came the stunned response.

            Barry was sitting at a desk, pen in hand, frozen. He stared up at Oliver, eyes wide. “What are you doing here?”

            The absurdity of that question almost made Oliver smile. Almost. “I could ask you the same thing, and it would be a more valid question,” Oliver replied, sharper than he’d intended.

            Barry’s gaze flicked away from Oliver, nervously. “Well, I-” he started.

            “That’s not important right now,” Oliver interrupted, impatient. “I need your help.”

            “Anything,” Barry replied earnestly.

            “Not here,” Oliver said. “The foundry.”

            Barry grinned suddenly, looking more confident than Oliver had ever seen him. It was startling. “Well, let me give you a lift there,” Barry said, in a teasing, smug tone.

            Oliver furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to respond, but then the world shifted around him, and his stomach dropped like he was on a roller coaster. For a moment, all he could see was yellow lightning.

            And then they were in the foundry. Oliver felt disoriented for a moment, and put his hand on Barry’s shoulder to steady himself. “What the hell, Barry?” he breathed, but when he looked up, Barry wasn’t looking at him. He was staring behind him, pale. He was looking at Sara.

            “How the hell did you do that?” Roy said, eyes wide, confused.

            “Barry?” Felicity said, sounding completely baffled.

            Laurel just stared, her hair blown back from the wind Barry had created.

            “Not now,” Oliver said sharply. “We can have an introduction and a reunion and an explanation later. Barry!”

            Barry turned sharply, away from the dead girl on the table. “Oliver?”

            “We need a forensics guy,” Oliver said, leading Barry over to Sara. “Lance said that you were working on the other archer murders.”

            “Oh! Yeah, those,” Barry said, and he launched into an explanation, but Oliver didn’t understand half the words he was saying.

            “Barry,” he stopped him. “Get to the point.”

            “Right, so I think I figured out who it could be,” Barry explained. “Based on some previous cases, and also a database I maybe shouldn’t have access to, I think it’s this guy named Simon Lacroix. I only just figured it out when you showed up.”

            “Felicity,” Oliver said.

            “On it,” she replied, immediately typing away on her computer. Laurel leaned over, watching Felicity work, just briefly glancing back at Barry.

            Barry looked at the dead girl, and the bagged evidence on the table next to her. He frowned and walked around Oliver to get a closer look. He leaned over, examining the items and the arrow wounds on the body.

            “Got a location,” Felicity announced.

            And Oliver was off. As Barry examined, Oliver chased and fought. It was almost like he was a part of the team, Barry thought to himself. Maybe this was what it could be like. Maybe he could be a part of this. It seemed so easy, so simple.

            “You picked a hell of a time to show up, Barry,” Felicity said from across the room.

            Barry looked up from his work. “What?”

            Felicity shot a glare. “Nice of you to let us know you’d woken up,” she said sharply. The girl standing beside Felicity looked at her questioningly. Barry recognized her- she was Lance’s daughter.

            Barry studied Felicity’s face for a moment, then his gaze shifted to the boy in the red hoodie, then back to the dead blonde girl on the table. Felicity wasn’t really mad at him, Barry realized. The room was tense. Something was wrong. Oliver had been tense, but that was just Oliver. Barry stared at the girl on the table.

            “Who was she?” he asked quietly, sympathy seeping into his tone.

            Felicity sighed. “Sara. Her name was Sara. She was on the Gambit with Oliver when it went down. She was… a friend.”

            “She was my sister,” the other girl added, her voice strained.

            Barry’s eyes widened. _Oh._ “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice gentle.

            Felicity smiled, a quick, small smile. Barely genuine. She didn’t respond, just nodded and wiped some stray tears off her face. She quickly turned back to the computers, exchanging some tense words with Oliver over the com. The other girl looked at Barry for a moment, confused and curious and maybe a little untrusting, before turning back to Felicity.

            The boy in the red hoodie walked carefully over to where Barry was working. “I’m Roy,” he said.

            Barry smiled. “I’m Barry.”

            “I figured,” Roy said. “Any luck here?”

            Before Barry could reply, Oliver’s voice came through the com. “ _He got away._ ”

            The dead girl’s sister slammed her fist down and stormed out of the room. Barry stayed very still, feeling particularly like he shouldn’t be there for this. He didn’t know the girl on the table. At first, he was just looking at her like any other murder victim. He swallowed his guilt as best he could, exchanging a worried glance with Roy.

            It wasn’t long before Oliver came back into the room, looking like he wanted to tear something apart.

            “I had him,” he hissed through a clenched jaw. He leaned forward against one of the tables, gripping the edge tightly. “I _had_ him.”

            “Uh, Oliver,” Barry said carefully. “I have something.”

            Oliver snapped back up and walked over to Barry. Barry noticed how he avoided looking at Sara.

            “The other archer murders, the cases I was working on at the SCPD, those are still definitely Simon Lacroix. Which is even more evident since your run in with him just now, but look,” Barry said, about to point out Sara’s wounds before he stopped himself and just looked at Oliver instead. “Here, the arrows are slightly different, not quite the same size. The angle is different, like it was someone shorter than Lacroix, even the style of the shot isn’t the same. Different archers tend to have subtly different ways of shooting.”

            “What are you saying?” Oliver said, gritting his teeth.

            “I’m saying that the man who killed the people from my cases is not the same man who killed this girl,” Barry replied. “It wasn’t Simon Lacroix.”

            Felicity and Roy exchanged a glance. “We should talk to Laurel,” Felicity said, walking quickly out of the room, with Roy following closely behind her.

            “So we’re back to square one,” Oliver sighed, rubbing his forehead like he had a migraine. “Can you tell us anything else?”

            Barry paused. “There’s one other thing.”

            Oliver just looked at him expectantly.

            “The composition and design of these arrows, they’re distinctive. From the files that Felicity keeps, I noticed they have some interesting similarities with some other specific arrows- the ones from the Dark Archer. They’re different enough so it’s not immediately noticeable, but they have too many similarities to be a coincidence.” Barry looked up at Oliver, a little worried.

            Oliver shook his head, looking pained. “The Dark Archer is dead. That’s not possible.”

            “There’s probably some other explanation,” Barry conceded. He wasn't exactly convinced there was, but this didn't seem like a good time to start an argument with Oliver.

            For a moment, it was so painfully quiet that Barry was almost afraid to breathe.

            “You okay?” he asked, moving a little so that he was angled in front of Oliver.

            Oliver sighed. “I can’t afford not to be, Barry.”

            “I’m sorry,” Barry said simply. There wasn’t really anything else he could say. The air felt heavy.

            Oliver just nodded and squeezed his eyes shut briefly. Then he looked at Barry, his eyes sad and tired. “Could you just… See what else you can find?”

            “Of course,” Barry said, turning back to the evidence. This, he could do. This, he could handle.

            “Barry,” Oliver said, touching his arm briefly. “I’m sorry. For bringing you into this. It’s… It’s not a good time.”

            Barry offered Oliver a kind, understanding smile. “It’s okay. I’m happy to help,” he said. “Anything you need.”

            Oliver nodded before walking away, looking defeated. Barry watched him, seeing how he seemed to carry the weight of the world and ask for no help. Barry wondered how Oliver managed it, taking responsibility for all that went wrong around him, asking for little help and no support. It must’ve been lonely, Barry thought with a heavy heart. Maybe that's what being a hero was. 

            The atmosphere in Starling City was certainly a far cry from Central City. It was like a whole different world out here.

            Now alone in the foundry, Barry noticed how big it felt. It felt so empty and quiet, like Barry was the only person left in the world. His heart hurt for Oliver as he thought about what it must be like, to spend the better part of your days down here, alone.

\---

            Oliver sat on the stairs in Verdant, leaning on his arms. He felt weighted down. He had no leads, he had no idea what to do. He was lost, completely lost. Sara was dead, and he couldn’t even catch the person who did it.

            Laurel walked in, with a quick pace and a determined look on her face. Felicity trailed in behind her, tears still staining her face. “Felicity and I figured out who Lacroix is going to get next,” she said. “He’s going to be at Ray Palmer’s party tonight.”

            Oliver sighed and pulled himself up. It felt less urgent than it had before, but he still had to catch Lacroix. He was still the Arrow, after all. “Lacroix didn’t kill Sara,” he reminded them quietly.

            “But this is our only lead,” Laurel said, sounding angry. 

            Felicity just looked crestfallen. “Is he sure? Completely sure? Couldn’t there be some mistake?”

            “You heard him, Barry is a CSI, he looked at the evidence and concluded that Sara’s killer was someone else,” he said, trying to keep his voice even. He couldn’t tell them what else Barry said. Not now. “You two stay here, go downstairs and see if you can help Barry get anything else.”

            “You’re still going after Lacroix?” Laurel asked, moving to block him from leaving. “What about Sara?”

            “We have no leads,” Oliver replied, not meeting her gaze. “I can’t do anything about Sara’s killer right now. I wouldn’t even know where to start. But I can still get Lacroix. I can at least do that.”

            Laurel didn’t reply, just gave Oliver a hard look before spinning around and heading downstairs. She knew he was right, but it didn’t exactly quell her anger.

            Felicity hesitated. “How can you even think about getting Lacroix right now? How can you find it in you?”

            Oliver tensed a little. He could only imagine how heartless he sounded to Felicity. “I have to finish what we started. We don’t know where Sara’s killer is, but we do know where Lacroix is.”

            “There’s nothing wrong needing some time, or taking a break,” Felicity said softly.

            “I can’t,” Oliver said simply, before turning and walking out, leaving Felicity in the large front room of Verdant by herself.

            He just needed to get Lacroix, deliver him to the police. He just needed to be the vigilante rather than Oliver Queen. It was just another case now. Just another criminal to catch. 

 --- 

            Barry didn’t go with the team to bury Sara in her already marked grave. He hadn’t known her, and he hadn’t even been able to figure out who killed her. They were trusting him to, and then all he ended up doing was telling them that the only lead they had was a dead end. He had nothing else to offer. Just disappointment. He hoped this wasn’t what it would always be like.

            He stayed in the foundry as they went to the cemetery. It was late, but he couldn’t find it in himself to go home. Not after today. He just slumped over in the chair, leaning his head on his hand, staring at the evidence that led him nowhere. Luckily, it was his day off tomorrow, or he’d definitely oversleep and be late. Well, more late than usual, anyway.

            Oliver had sprung this on him before Barry was even intending to tell him that he’d moved here, and now the death of a complete stranger weighed heavily on his shoulder. This was some case to jump in on. He wasn’t sure exactly what he envisioned about moving to Starling and working with Team Arrow, but it wasn’t quite this. He still didn’t regret it. His heart just ached for Oliver, for Laurel, for Roy, for all of Starling, really. This place was darker than he was used to. The fog was unwelcoming, the criminals were malicious, the methods were more desperate.  

            No wonder Oliver was so cold. Five years on an island, only to return to this world of his. Barry couldn’t help but think about how much Oliver deserved more light in his life.

            He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, staring at the bagged evidence hopelessly. Eventually, though, he heard footsteps and swiveled around in surprise.

            Oliver looked just as surprised to see him there, and he stopped in his tracks. “Barry,” he said softly. “What are you still doing here?”

            Barry forced a smile. “I just didn’t really feel like going home yet.”

            Oliver just walked over and sat down in the chair next to Barry, not speaking or looking at him for several moments. “What are you even doing in Starling, Barry?”  

            Barry shook his head. “It’s a long story, I guess. This doesn’t feel like the right time. We can catch up later.”

            “Why didn’t you tell me you were here?”

            Barry paused. “Another time, Oliver.”

            Oliver nodded.

            “This might be a dumb question, but…” Barry hesitated. “Are you okay?”

            Oliver swallowed, and Barry noticed the tears in his eyes. “I just need to find whoever killed her,” he said, his voice faltering.

            “You will,” Barry said gently. “We’ll get justice for your friend, I promise.”

            “We?” Oliver replied.

            “Oh, well, uh, you know,” Barry stuttered a bit, nervous all of a sudden. “If- if you’ll have me, that is. On the team. If you want.”

            “Yeah,” Oliver said, his voice barely a whisper. “That would be good.”

            “Okay,” Barry replied, his heart still beating hard in his chest. At least one good thing happened today, though it felt like quite a small consolation prize after looking at Oliver’s face, devoid of any happiness or energy.

            “Barry?”

            “Yeah?”

            “I don’t want to die down here,” Oliver breathed, his voice cracking a bit. A couple tears fell down his face. He sounded so broken, so small.

            Barry almost cried just looking at him. He desperately wanted to give the guy a hug; he clearly needed it. “You won’t, Oliver.”

            Oliver turned away and rubbed his face. “You should go home. Get some sleep. It’s been a long day for everyone.”

            Barry nodded and stood up, grabbing his coat, but then he hesitated. “Where are you staying?” he asked. “I heard what happened with your family’s house.”

            “Here,” Oliver replied.

            Barry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. _Of course he would be staying here._ “Listen, I have a spare room. And a couch. Why don’t you come crash at my place?”

            Oliver looked up at him, and for a moment, Barry swore he looked so young, like a lost teenager. “You sure?”

            “Completely,” Barry said, touching Oliver’s shoulder lightly. “Don’t stay here, Oliver, please. Not alone.”

            “Can we just walk? I could use the air.”

            “Of course.”

            They walked in a heavy silence. Oliver barely even registered when they got to Barry’s apartment. He just collapsed on the couch and immediately fell asleep. For the first time in a long time, he had no nightmares that night.

            Barry got his extra blanket and lay it carefully over Oliver. It had been a hard day for Barry, so he could only imagine just how hard it had been for Oliver. Barry wasn’t the one who lost a friend.

            All this just confirmed what Barry had already been thinking. Starling City needed him more than Central City did.  


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking place Arrow 3.03

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's nothing like procrastinating during finals week to motivate me to continue writing this.

            Oliver woke up, a little disoriented, unsure of where he was. He jumped up, frantically looking around for a moment in a panic. It only took him a moment to register the light coming through the window, and Barry leaning out of the kitchen door.

            “You alright?” he asked Oliver, carrying two cups of coffee and putting one down in front of Oliver.

            Oliver nodded. “I’m fine, I just… Didn’t remember where I was.” He picked up the coffee, gripping the cup. “Thank you.”

            “Well, I was making some anyway,” Barry said, waving him off and smiling. “I wasn’t sure how you took your coffee, did you want cream or sugar?”

            “Black is fine,” Oliver replied, taking a sip.

            “Good, good,” Barry said, sitting down on the couch next to Oliver and running his hands through his hair nervously. “So, ah, I was thinking, you know, since you’ve just been sleeping in the foundry- which is super depressing, by the way- and I have that spare room and all, you could just, like, move in here. You know, if you wanted, or something.”

            Oliver stared at him for a moment, brow furrowed. Here Barry was, letting him sleep on his couch and then bringing him coffee, and now offering him a place to stay. Oliver was taken aback. How was anyone this nice? Not to mention blindly trusting. It was such a kind, selfless offer, to someone he didn’t even know that well. Oliver really didn’t know what to make of it.

            Barry took Oliver’s silence to mean he thought the idea was ridiculous. “Right, sorry, that was weird,” he said with a quick, nervous laugh. “Just forget I said anything, I’m sure you don’t need help.”

            “No, Barry, it’s not that,” Oliver said, trying to keep his voice even and his expression unreadable. “It’s a very generous offer. I’ll think about it, okay?”

            Barry grinned, straightening up. “Alright, awesome.”

            Oliver put down his mug carefully and turned to Barry. “Are you going to tell me what you’re doing here yet?”

            Barry’s smile faded and he stiffened a little, though it was barely noticeable. He didn’t look Oliver in the eyes, just stared at the coffee mug on the table and fidgeted with his hands. “Well, I…” he tried, but he trailed off.

            Oliver didn’t say anything, just waited patiently for Barry to find the words.

            “I needed to get out of Central City,” Barry said, his voice a little sad. “It stopped feeling like home after I woke up.”

            The answer wasn’t exactly satisfying to Oliver, but he didn’t press. If Barry didn’t feel comfortable telling him everything, he wouldn’t make him. He just nodded. "But why didn't you tell me you were here?"

           Barry looked at Oliver, with a small smile. "I don't really know," he admitted. "I guess I wasn't sure you'd want to see me."

           Oliver just raised an eyebrow at him. "Barry, of course I would have."

           Barry ducked his head shyly, trying to hide a slight blush. "Good to know."

            Oliver couldn't help but smile. Barry was utterly ridiculous. “Shouldn’t you get to work?” Oliver asked.

            Barry shook his head. “It’s my day off. My first day off, actually,” he said with a grin. “The first week of work is over. I survived.”

            “Did you want to grab some breakfast, then?” Oliver asked. 

            Barry raised his eyebrows and laughed a little. “More like lunch. It’s afternoon, Oliver.”

            “Right,” Oliver replied with a sigh. “So, Big Belly Burger?”

            Barry grinned, and then flashed out of the room. Oliver barely had time to react before Barry was back, handing Oliver a burger.

            “Did you steal this?” Oliver said warily. He still took the food, though.

            “Of course not,” Barry replied, taking a bite of his own burger. “I left the money on the counter.”

            Oliver chuckled and just shook his head.

            They finished their food in a comfortable silence, before Oliver remembered how much work he still had to do. It was a nice moment of forgetting all his responsibilities, anyway. He wished he could’ve made it last longer.

            “I should get back to the foundry,” he said, mostly to himself, reluctantly.

            “I’ll give you a lift,” Barry replied, and before Oliver could argue, he was cut off by the feeling of wind and a sudden nausea, and then he was in the foundry. He stumbled and caught himself on Barry’s shoulder.

            “Would it kill you to warn me?” Oliver said sharply, leaning into Barry, not quite steady yet.

            “Right, sorry,” Barry said, genuinely apologetic.

            Felicity, Roy, and Diggle were all already there, gaping at the two men, frozen and dumbfounded.

            “What just happened?” Diggle said, voice low and alarmed.

            “How did you _do_ that?” Felicity asked, her voice high, as she walked closer.

            Barry grinned and cocked his head to the side, with an air of fake humility. Oliver shot a glare at him; he was clearly enjoying this far too much. “Yeah, turns out, I’m fast,” Barry said.

            “No kidding,” Diggle said, deadpan.

            “Cool,” Roy breathed, staring at Barry in awe.

            Oliver turned to Barry, tightlipped. “Barry, we’re going to have to have a conversation about being discreet.”

            Barry put his hands up as though surrendering. “Alright, alright, I just figured there was no need to hide it from them,” he said, gesturing to the rest of the team.

            “That’s not the point, anyone could’ve seen you,” Oliver started to lecture, crossing his arms.

            Barry smirked. “I think I was too fast for that.”

            Oliver sighed. “We’re really going to have to work on this in training.” He turned back to the rest of the team. “Felicity, got anything?”

            Felicity just shook her head helplessly. “Nothing yet,” she replied, her voice small. She took a quick breath before regaining composure. Then she walked over and punched Barry in the arm.

            “Ow!” he exclaimed. “What was that for?”

            “Isn’t it common courtesy to let your friends know when you’re no longer in a coma?” she said, crossing her arms. “Also, since when do you live in Starling?”

            “Sorry, Felicity,” Barry said sheepishly. “To be fair, it all happened kind of quickly. I didn’t even tell my family until the day before I left.”

            She shot him another glare before hugging him. “Well, I’m happy you’re not dead,” she said before pulling away.

            After that, Barry settled in pretty easily. Having a member of the team working for the SCPD proved helpful, even more helpful since his area of expertise was forensics science. It was exactly as easy and simple as Barry had imagined it would be.

            The following week, Oliver kept chasing any lead possible to find Sara’s killer. He was out almost every night, and they all ended up being dead ends. It was feeling more and more hopeless, but he wasn’t ready to admit that the trail had gotten cold. It would’ve been to much for him to handle.

            Meanwhile, Barry was with the team most nights, too, coming to the foundry every day right after after work. While Oliver chased ghosts, Barry went after low-level criminals. As practice, almost. Sometimes with Roy, sometimes alone, Barry caught muggers and thieves.

            He pulled guns out of the hands of robbers holding up convenience stores, while they moved so slowly, it looked to him like they were standing still. He put handcuffs on them before they could even realize what was happening, and brought police officers to them before anyone could even blink.

            He loved it. While Oliver was losing hope, Barry was gaining confidence.

            The press had noticed him, too. They called him “The Flash” in articles, questioning what he was and who he was, if he was even real, and speculating on his connection with the Arrow.

            Oliver still hadn’t answered Barry’s offer for a place to live, but he was sleeping on Barry’s couch most nights, slipping in after yet another dead end, and going straight to sleep.

\---

            One night in the foundry, a week after Sara’s death, Oliver was almost completely out of hope. Maybe they would never find Sara’s killer. And maybe he’d never manage to get ahold of Thea and bring her home. “Have you found anything yet, Felicity?” Oliver said, his voice defeated, his shoulders slumped over. Barry didn’t like seeing him like this.  

            Felicity nodded, pushing her glasses up and going into work mode. “Right, that piece of glass you found at the scene- it took a while, but I finally managed to get a print off of it.”

            Barely a second after she finished giving Oliver the location, Barry sped out of the room, papers flying everywhere.

            “Barry!” Oliver called, but he was already gone. Oliver glared at where he’d disappeared.

            “We’re going to need to invest in some paperweights if he’s staying,” Felicity said, casually sighing.

            “I am never gonna get used to that,” Diggle said, pointing at where Barry had run out, staring at it intensely.

            “Neither am I,” Roy said, but in a clearly excited tone. “He’s joining the team permanently, right? He has to.” Oliver hesitated. They hadn’t actually said anything out loud yet, just settled into a routine. Eventually, he’d have to ask Barry, but he was afraid of what the answer could be.

            Before Oliver could answer Roy, though, Barry sped back in the room, in his red suit. “The guy didn’t know anything,” he reported. “He was just drinking on the roof with his buddies when a woman told him to leave.” He leaned against the table, a little lightheaded and out of breath.

            “Great,” Oliver sighed leaning against the table next to him. “Another dead end.” He paused for a moment before glaring at Barry. “You can’t just take off like that. You went in blind. You have to stop doing that.”

            Barry shot Oliver a defiant look. “It got the job done, didn’t it?”

            Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, exasperated. “We are really going to have to work on this.”

             “After all that work trying to get the fingerprint,” Felicity said, frustrated. She glanced at her watch. “Well, I hate to do this, but I have to go to work.”

            “Really, the store opens this early?” Roy asked.

            Felicity paused. “Well, not exactly. I might have taken Ray Palmer up on his job offer.”

            Oliver stared at her for a moment. “You’re working for Ray Palmer?” he said sharply. She opened her mouth to respond, but he shook his head. “Never mind, one thing at a time. Have you figured out where in Italy Thea is staying?”

            “Yeah, she’s not staying in Italy. Or even in Europe,” Felicity replied. “I had to ping her cell phone. She’s in Corto Maltese.” With that, she headed out, ponytail swinging as she walked.

            “What’s up with your family and islands?” Diggle said. Barry chuckled unintentionally.

            Oliver just shot them both an irritated look before starting to walk away.

            “Oliver, wait,” Roy said, following him. “Her letter said not to come find her.”

            “That letter was addressed to you, not to me,” Oliver pointed out. He took a breath. “Watching Laurel go through losing Sara… It’s time for my sister to come home.”

            “I really don’t think Thea wants to see either of us right now,” Roy said, his voice getting quiet. “We don’t want to push her away more.”

            Oliver gritted his teeth. “Fine. Barry,” he called.

            “Yeah?” Barry replied eagerly.

            “Feel like going to Corto Maltese?” Oliver asked.

            Barry just grinned. “I bet I can run fast enough to walk on water.”

            Oliver took a deep breath. This kid was seriously testing him. “Just take a plane, Barry.”

            “Well, where’s the fun in that?” Barry replied. Oliver just rolled his eyes.

            “Should we really send a stranger to go get her?” Roy asked hesitantly. “I mean, no offense, Barry.”

            Barry smiled and waved him off. “None taken.”

            “Well, who do you think Thea would react more positively to right now? One of us, or a stranger?” Oliver said, sounding a little sad.

            Roy didn’t answer, but he looked at the ground in defeat.

            So it was settled, Barry was going to see if he could talk Thea into coming back. He was taking a plane, though. Oliver wasn’t about to let him test his ability to walk on water yet.

\---

            Before going to the address that Felicity had sent him, Barry decided to stop at a café because he was starving, which was weird, since he’d already eaten a lot today. He ordered food and sat down to wait, when, as luck would have it, he saw her.

            He pulled out the photo Oliver had given him for comparison. It was definitely Thea. He took a breath and walked over to her. “Thea?” he said, hesitantly. “Thea Queen?”

            She swiveled around, looking him up and down apprehensively, like she was about to attack him. “Who are you?” she asked sharply.

            “My name is Barry Allen,” he replied, trying to keep his tone light and friendly. He supposed that a stranger knowing your name when you were trying to hide was probably somewhat alarming. “I’m a friend of your brother’s.”

            Thea relaxed, but now she just looked irritated. “He sent you.”

            “Yeah,” Barry admitted. “Can we talk?”

            Thea shrugged noncommittally and gestured to a table off to the side. She let Barry walk over and sit down before she followed. “Why did he send you? Didn’t feel like doing the work himself?”

            “He wasn’t sure if you’d want to see him,” Barry told her. “Since you didn’t tell him where to find you.”

            “He’s very perceptive,” she replied, an edge to her voice.

            “Oliver and Roy miss you,” he said earnestly. “They just want to know you’re okay.”

            “Maybe they should’ve thought of that before they lied to me,” she shot back. “ _Repeatedly._ ”

            “I know,” he replied. “They absolutely shouldn’t have done that.”

            “Look, I’m sorry that my brother sent you here, but you’re wasting your time,” Thea said stubbornly. “I’m not going back to Starling City. Not now, not ever.” She took a breath. She didn’t want to be back there, where her mother had died, where she’d been lied to, where her family fell apart. She needed to be somewhere else, so she could be someone else.

            Barry looked at her, eyes full of sympathy. “Listen, I don’t know you. I don’t know what they did or said. I’m just a stranger to you, I get that. But I do know Oliver. And he has way too much pride to tell you this, but he really needs you right now. And so does Roy.” He paused. “So does Laurel, actually.” Oliver had told him that Thea was close with Sara’s sister.

            Thea studied Barry’s face, frowning. “What aren’t you telling me?”

            Oliver had told him not to tell her, not yet. But Barry wasn’t good at taking orders. And he knew that Thea hated being lied to, and a lie of omission was still a lie. “It’s about Sara.”

            “What happened?” Thea asked, leaning forward. “Is she okay?”

            Barry shook his head. “I’m so sorry.”

            Thea brought a hand to her mouth, and she looked for a moment like she might cry. But she didn’t, she just inhaled sharply and looked back at Barry.

            “I know Oliver made some mistakes, but he’s still family. He’s still your brother,” Barry said gently. He leaned forward and put a comforting hand on Thea’s arm. “I think we both know he’d never say this out loud, but he’s really hurting.”

            Thea just nodded. “I’ll meet you at the airport,” she said, getting up from the table. She didn’t make eye contact, just turned and walked away.

\---

            Oliver paced in Verdant, waiting for Barry to get back, when Laurel walked in with a black eye.

            He walked quickly over to her, reaching out to touch her face, but she flinched. “What happened?” he asked.

            “There’s this girl in my AA meetings. She’s got this boyfriend. A total scumbag. She’s always coming in with more bruises.” Laurel paused and looked at Oliver. “I tried to go after him. Like Sara would have.”

            “Laurel, what were you _thinking_?” Oliver said, and his voice almost sounded angry, but it was mostly just concern.

            “I was thinking that I needed to honor Sara’s memory,” she said. “And this was the only way I could think how.”

            “Sara had training. Years of it,” Oliver said. “You can’t just…”

            “Oliver, I know,” Laurel said, taking a step towards Oliver, holding Sara’s jacket close to her. She looked him straight in the eye. “So train me.”

            Oliver sighed and shook his head. “No,” he said, walking past her.

            “Oliver!” she said, following him.

            “No,” he repeated turning back around. He looked at Laurel’s face, bruised and bloody. He didn’t want to help her put herself back in that kind of position. “I want you to consider what would happen to your father if something happened to you.”

            “Oliver, I need this.” she insisted, pleading.  

            “I can’t, Laurel. I can’t,” he sighed, looking at her sadly. “Sara would never forgive me.”

            He walked down to the foundry, unable to face Laurel any longer. He understood why Laurel wanted to do this, but he couldn’t be a part of that. He already lost Sara, he couldn’t lose Laurel, too. She had to understand that she couldn’t have this kind of life, for her own sake and for Quentin’s.

            Roy was sitting slumped over at one of the desks. He perked up when Oliver walked in. “Any news from Barry?”

            As if on cue, Barry sped in, papers flying everywhere again from the wind.

            “Felicity was right about getting paperweights,” Roy muttered.

            “Thea is at a hotel right now,” Barry reported. “I’d say give her a little time to settle, and go see her tomorrow morning.”

            “I don’t really want to wait that long,” Roy said.

            Barry just smiled. He understood, so he gave Roy the address, and Roy left immediately.

            Oliver looked at Barry, studying his face, arms crossed over his chest. “Thank you,” he said.

            Barry nodded. Even though Oliver’s expression remained neutral, Barry saw the way his shoulders looked a little less stiff, his eyes didn’t look quite as sad. Barry hoped that Thea’s return would help. He desperately wanted Oliver to be happy, he just didn’t know how to make it happen.

            Oliver took a few steps closer to Barry. Barry could’ve sworn he looked nervous, maybe. He’d never seen Oliver feeling awkward before. “Barry, I…” Oliver started. “I was thinking that maybe I would take you up on your offer. If it’s still on the table, that is.”

            _Oh._ Barry smiled and opened his mouth to respond, when his phone rang.

            “Hello?” he answered.

            “Barry,” Cisco said, his voice urgent. “We’re having a problem. We think we have a meta who can control poisonous gas.”

            “Wow, really? Cool,” Barry said, before catching himself. “I mean, awful.”

            “I mean, it’s ridiculously cool, but also deadly,” Cisco replied with a laugh. “We could use someone with super-speed, dude.”

            “I’m on my way,” Barry said, hanging up. He turned back to Oliver.

            “Something wrong?” Oliver said evenly.

            “They need me back in Central City,” Barry explained. “There’s a bad meta-human on the loose.”

            “Meta-human?” Oliver replied, raising an eyebrow.

            “What I am. People with powers,” Barry told him, jumping straight into the explanation. “When the particle accelerator exploded, I wasn’t the only affected. There were people all over the City who got hit. It seems to depend a lot on what the person was doing when the particle accelerator exploded- see, I was struck by lightning, but-”

            “Barry,” Oliver interrupted.

            “Right, sorry,” Barry said. “Anyway, they need my help with a meta.”

            Oliver nodded, tight-lipped. He didn’t want to show any emotion, particularly the disappointment that this meant he’d have to spend the night sleeping in the foundry. He couldn’t very well stay at Barry’s apartment if Barry wasn’t going to be there. Not yet, anyway, since they hadn’t actually discussed it.

            Barry smiled apologetically. He didn’t really want to leave- working with Oliver was stressful, and time-consuming, and hard, but so far, he loved it. He hadn’t missed Central City even once since Oliver came to his office and asked for his help. But he still had responsibilities to the people in Central City, too.

            Barry started to speed off, but he felt lightheaded, dizzy. His vision began to blur and he felt hot all of a sudden. He faltered by the door, and then collapsed to the floor.

            “Barry!” Oliver yelled, running over. He leaned down, touched Barry’s shoulder gently, checked his wrist for a pulse. Oliver breathed a heavy sigh of relief. _He just passed out_ , he told himself to calm his nerves. _It’s okay. It’s okay. He’ll come to in just a few moments. Fainting isn’t a big deal._

            Nevertheless, he didn’t feel any better until Barry’s eyes fluttered open.

            “Wh- What happened?” Barry said, dazed. His voice sounded so heavy, like he’d just woken up after a really bad dream.

            “You passed out, Barry,” Oliver told him, gently. He didn’t take his hand off of Barry’s shoulder.

            “Oh, Okay,” Barry said, leaning up and rubbing the back of his head where it hit the floor. “That’s fine, then. I’ll just-”

            “You’re not _running_ to Central City,” Oliver said. He could hear his voice, it sounded harsh, almost angry. But Barry was insane if he thought Oliver was just going let him leave after this.

            Barry looked at Oliver, eyes narrowed. “Oliver, I told them that I’d come when they needed me. That’s what I’m going to do. No offence, but it’s not like you can stop me.”

            “Fine,” Oliver said, standing. He held his hand out and pulled Barry back to his feet. “But you know you can’t run there.”

            Barry glared at Oliver, a little irritated. He couldn’t exactly argue, but he wanted to. “Then what do you suggest?”

            “We’ll take my motorcycle,” Oliver replied casually.

            Barry raised an eyebrow. “We?” he asked, a smile creeping onto his face.

            “I’m driving,” Oliver said, turning away. There was no way he was letting Barry go down there alone.

            Barry hesitated. “Shouldn’t you stay here? Go see Thea?”

            “Thea will be here when we get back,” Oliver replied evenly. “Right now, you need me.”

            Barry watched Oliver walk to the table to grab his jacket and his keys, grinning. If he really had to go back to Central City, at least Oliver was coming, too.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking place Flash 1.03, The Things You Can't Outrun, the first half of it. Second half in the next chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm messing with the canon timeline of the shows a little, but then again, so did Barry Allen

            It took a lot longer to get to S.T.A.R. Labs than it would have if he ran, Barry couldn’t help but think. It was more frustrating than he thought it would be to have to refrain from using his speed. Even Oliver’s bike, which he noticed Oliver was driving almost dangerously fast, still felt slow, muted. Barry wasn’t quite as comfortable with the natural speed of the world anymore.

            Although he was more comfortable holding on to Oliver as they rode than he thought he would be. His arms were wrapped around Oliver’s waist, his chest pressed into Oliver’s back. He could feel the warmth, the tension in Oliver’s muscles. He felt safe.

            They did eventually reach S.T.A.R. Labs, and though Barry was itching to get started on the case, he found himself reluctant to let go of Oliver. “Are you coming in as the Arrow or as Oliver Queen?” he asked as he made himself untangle his arms from around Oliver’s waist and get off the bike.

            “Oliver Queen,” he replied, following Barry off the bike. “There’s no need to risk more people knowing who I am.”

            “You don’t have to come in,” Barry replied. But then again, Oliver didn’t have to come at all. He tried not to question it.

            “You need to tell the doctor about how you passed out,” Oliver said. “I just want to make sure you do.”

            Barry grinned. “What, don’t you trust me?”

            Oliver didn’t answer, just shot him a look that said, _Trust isn’t the issue._ Oliver wanted to make sure Barry was okay. He couldn’t just wait.

            When they walked in, they got confused stares from Cisco, Caitlin, Wells, and Joe. The room felt a little like the air had been removed, and it occurred to Barry just how odd it was to bring this infamous Starling City ex-billionaire, best known for coming back from the dead. He deliberately hadn’t mentioned Oliver- or the Arrow- on any of his phone calls with Cisco or Joe. He certainly hadn’t mentioned that Oliver knew what he could do. Barry supposed it was too late to do anything about that now.

            “Right,” he said, as Joe looked at him questioningly. “This is Oliver Queen. Oliver, this is Joe, Cisco, Caitlin, and Harrison Wells.”

            Oliver stuck his hand out to shake Joe’s. “Barry has told me about you,” he said politely.

            Joe shot Barry a look that Barry avoided. Sure, Oliver knew about all these people, but none of them knew about Oliver. “So how exactly did you two meet?” Joe said, after Oliver greeted everyone, directing the question at Barry.

            Barry laughed nervously. “Right, well, Oliver used to date the police chief’s daughter, so I saw him around the police station,” he said, quickly. “He was, um, looking for a place to stay, and I was looking for a roommate.” Barry glanced at Oliver, but his expression was neutral. Hopefully, he didn’t mind being introduced as Barry’s roommate. It was certainly better than being introduced as Barry’s vigilante friend, and Barry needed to improvise.

            “So what brings you to Central City, Mr. Queen?” Wells said coolly, gliding toward Oliver in his wheelchair. His eyes pierced into Oliver’s in a way that made Oliver distinctly uneasy.

            “Barry needed a ride here,” Oliver replied, his voice betraying none of his discomfort. “He doesn’t have a car.”

            “Couldn’t you just, you know, run?” Cisco asked Barry before catching himself. “I mean, take the train.” He glanced over at Oliver, clearly realizing that he’d let Barry’s secret slip.

            Oliver just smiled at Cisco, and it occurred to Barry, not for the first time, how rarely he saw Oliver smile. “Don’t worry, Cisco, I already know.”

            “Oh, good,” Cisco replied, with audible relief. “Wait, how do you know?”

            “Well, I’m Barry’s roommate,” Oliver replied, shooting Barry a coy look. “He’s not exactly subtle.”

            Joe laughed, and Oliver felt himself relax. Clearly, that was the right thing to say. “You gotta be more careful, Bar,” Joe said, putting his hand on Barry’s shoulder.

            “It’s hard to hide things when you live with someone,” Barry defended, grinning. “I mean, how was I supposed to clean without using my speed?”

            “Wait, back to the original question, why couldn’t you run here, then?” Cisco asked.

            Oliver crossed his arms and looked at Barry expectantly. _You have to tell them._

            Barry just sighed and reached his hand up to his neck. “Well, it’s probably not a big deal,” he started, which earned him a glare from Oliver. “I was about to, but then I passed out.” He shot Oliver a glare right back. “Oliver insisted on driving me.”

            At the mention of his passing out, Caitlin had hurried over and she pulled him to a chair. “Well, Oliver was right, then,” she said, sharply. “Have you been feeling lightheaded? Dizzy? You have to tell us these things, Barry, we can’t keep secrets.”

            “I mean, a little, but I’m fine now,” Barry said, a little defensively. He glanced over at Oliver accusingly, and Oliver just rolled his eyes.

            “Barry, you’re medically unprecedented. There’s a lot we still don’t know. You need to be honest with us, especially since you’re living in another city. We can only get to you so fast, and it’s not like you can go to a normal hospital,” Caitlin lectured as she took his vitals. “We need to focus on preventative methods, not just wait for something to happen to you.”

            “Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” Barry said with a sigh.

            Wells rolled over next to Caitlin, looking at the data she was pulling up. “Look at the glucose levels.”

            Caitlin audibly sighed. “Of course. That makes total sense.”

            “What is it?” Barry prompted. He exchanged a glance with Oliver, and noticed just how worried he looked. Usually, Oliver was better at keeping his emotions hidden than this. 

            “Hypoglycemia,” Caitlin said briskly.

            “Oh,” Barry replied relaxing. “I’m just not eating enough?”

            “That’s an understatement,” Wells interjected.

            Caitlin nodded. “We’re going to have to figure out a new diet based on your metabolic changes. We’ll run some tests to figure out just how many calories you need, but for now, just eat a lot.”

            “Like, a whole lot,” Cisco added with a laugh, as he looked over Caitlin’s shoulder at the data.

            Barry just nodded. “So what about this meta-human?” he said.

            “Right,” Joe said, launching into his explanation, about how a crime family was murdered using poisonous gas, but the scene wasn’t quite right. It seemed like the gas has been able to move from individual to individual, deciding who to get next. Like the gas had a mind of its own. “I figured S.T.A.R. Labs would be the place to go with this. Our new CSI couldn’t make sense of it,” he finished, giving Barry a pointed look. Barry just looked away.

            “Cool, right?” Cisco said excitedly, oblivious to the meaning of Joe’s comment. Barry noticed Oliver raise his eyebrows and tense up. “I mean, there are so many questions. Can he control all gas, or just poisonous? It’s fascinating.”

            “Not that we really have time to theorize about it,” Wells said coldly.

            “We’re looking into it, trying to find where this meta is now,” Caitlin said, and then she looked at Barry. “You should go eat something. We’ll call you when we find something.”

            Barry nodded, and nudged Oliver on the arm. “Come on, Ollie, let’s go.”

            Oliver froze for a split second- _did he just call me Ollie?-_ before nodding back and turning to leave. “It was nice to meet you all,” he said politely.

            Before they could walk out, Joe pulled Barry to the side. “Can I have a word with you before you go?” he said, tensely.

            Barry exchanged a glance with Oliver. “I’ll just meet you outside, okay?” Oliver hesitated, but nodded, leaving Barry with Joe. Joe pulled Barry into the hallway, out of earshot of everyone else.

            “Since you moved, I’ve been following the news in Starling,” Joe started, his voice quiet, but angry. “There have been reports of a flash of red rescuing people from muggers and fires.”

            Barry didn’t answer, jut crossed his arms and looked at the floor.

            “What the hell are you doing, Barry?” Joe asked, exasperated.

            “I’m helping people,” Barry replied sharply. “I can’t just ignore how much good I can do with my powers, Joe. I can make a real difference.”

            “You’re not invincible, Barry. Think about what Caitlin was saying, there’s no one in Starling who can protect you. Do you know how long it would take for the scientists here to get to you if you were in trouble?” Joe said. He sighed and put his hand on Barry’s shoulder. “You could get seriously hurt.”

            “But I haven’t. I’m careful enough,” Barry replied. He looked up, staring Joe straight in the eyes stubbornly. “I can’t fix everything, but if I have the chance to save someone from a burning building or stop some muggers, I’m gonna do it.” His voice was getting louder, angrier. He couldn’t ignore how strongly he felt about this. “You can’t stop me.”

            “I know I can’t, you made that clear when you moved six hundred miles away!” Joe yelled back. He paused for a moment closing his eyes to regain some composure. “If this wasn’t bad enough already, the reports are saying that you might be working with the Arrow. Anything to say about that?”

            Barry looked down. He couldn’t exactly deny it, Joe would see through that.

            “Barry, he’s dangerous. You need to stay away from him,” Joe warned.

            “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Barry said, glaring at him again.

            “The Arrow _kills_ people, Barry,” Joe said, his voice urgent. “You shouldn’t be around him. He’s a killer and a criminal and you’re better than that.”

            “The Arrow is a hero, and you don’t know him,” Barry replied sharply. His hands started shaking. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go.”

            He turned on his heels and began walking out, as Joe called after him, “This conversation isn’t over!”

            “Believe me, it is,” Barry shot back as he slammed the door behind him.

            He took a deep breath and leaned against the wall for a moment, trying to calm himself down. He squeezed his eyes shut and counted to ten, but his hands were still shaking. He hated how Joe talked about Oliver.

            Barry was shaken out of his thoughts when Oliver gently touched him. “You alright?” Oliver asked, lightly squeezing his shoulders.

            “I’ll be fine,” Barry replied, plastering on a smile. “Let’s get to Jitters so I can see Iris and eat all the pastries they have.”

\---

            Iris was serving someone when Barry walked in. She quickly excused herself before running into Barry’s arms, and holding him tightly.

            “Barry!” she said warmly, smiling at him. “I’ve missed you!”

            “I’ve only been gone a couple weeks,” Barry said, hugging her back.

            She pulled away and hit his arm. “A couple very long weeks!” she replied.

            Barry chuckled a little and nodded, but Iris was looking behind him, having just noticed Oliver.

            “Oh,” she said, eyes wide, looking star-struck. Barry had to keep from rolling his eyes. “Hi,” she said with a huge smile, sticking her hand out to Oliver. “I’m Iris.”

            “I know,” he replied, smiling back, an easy, kind smile. Barry couldn’t help but think that this particular façade Oliver wore when he played the ex-billionaire playboy was exactly why girls were always fawning over him. Not that it irritated Barry or anything, of course. “Barry has told me about you.”

            “ _Has_ he?” Iris replied, shooting Barry a look that said, _And why haven’t you told me about him?_

Oliver smiled again, and Barry felt a little like punching him. He just wasn’t sure if it was how Iris was looking at Oliver that bothered him, or if it was how Oliver was looking at Iris. “I’ll go grab the coffee and the food, Barry, you catch up with your friend.”

            As soon as he was out of earshot, Iris hit Barry on the arm. “You did not tell me you were friends with _Oliver Queen_!” she whisper-yelled.

            Barry sighed and glanced over at the register, wishing he hadn’t when he saw the way the barista was looking at Oliver, like she was going to fall over. “I’m friends with Oliver Queen,” he said, his tone exasperated. _Charming, flirtatious Oliver Queen._ It was weird to see this side of him.

            “He’s so hot,” Iris gushed. “Did you see his arms? They’re like, twice the size of yours!”

            “They’re not _twice_ the size,” Barry mumbled as they sat down at a table.

            “So how’s Starling?” Iris asked. “I hear it’s really _interesting_ up there at the moment.” 

            Barry shrugged, trying desperately to look nonchalant and failing. “It’s alright. Crime rates are up, so there’s more work at the police department.”

            “Have you heard about the new vigilante, though?” she said excitedly, leaning forward. “Some red blur that’s been rescuing people, it’s amazing.”

            Barry chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve heard about that. Sounds like a bizarre conspiracy theory to me.”

            “Come on, Barry,” Iris replied. “You’re always looking for the impossible, and it’s _happening_ and you’re not even excited about it? Why does Starling get all the fun, anyway? First the Arrow, now the Flash.”

            “The Flash?” Barry said, raising an eyebrow. At least he was finally using the skills he got from his high school drama class.

            “That’s what the papers are calling him,” she says, pulling out her phone and showing him the blog articles.

            Barry shrugged. “I don’t know.”

            Iris rolled her eyes. “Whatever, you’re not nearly excited enough about this.” She glanced back over to Oliver, who was just picking up the drinks. “I can’t believe he’s here,” Iris said, turning back to Barry. “I mean, how did you even meet him?

            “I’m his roommate,” Oliver interjected as he came over to the table, holding two coffees and a pile of pastries.

            Iris’ eyes widened and she gave Barry a look that said, _We are going to talk about this later._ “Unfortunately, I have to get back to work,” Iris said, standing up and offering her seat to Oliver. “It was _very_ nice to meet you, Mr. Queen.”

            “Please, call me Oliver,” he replied, flashing her a smile.

            Iris looked like she was about to melt, before walking away and going to the register. Barry watched her and the other barista leaning in and talking excitedly, as they looked at Oliver very obviously.

            “Is this how it always is with you?” Barry asked, sighing.

            Oliver shrugged. “Not _always._ ”

            “But often,” Barry replied pointedly.

            Oliver smirked at him. “Just eat your food, Barry.”

\---

            Oliver and Barry headed back to S.T.A.R. Labs on Oliver’s bike once they were done at Jitters.

            “Barry, Oliver,” Cisco greeted with a smile. “Perfect timing. It just came through on the police scanner that there’s been reports of a gas attack.”

            “Where?” Barry said urgently. Oliver glanced at him, uneasy. _He’s just going to go in blind again._

            “The Central City Shopping Mall,” Cisco replied.

            Wells briefly glared at Cisco before looking at Barry. “Barry, we don’t know enough about this meta yet. Be careful.”

            “I still have to try,” Barry replied, changing into his suit and speeding out of the room before anyone could stop him.

            Oliver began to wish that he’d come as the Arrow instead of Oliver Queen. Then he could follow Barry and help without having to explain himself.

            “I patched through the mall security system. The gas attack should be in the main elevator in the north wing,” Cisco said through the com. Oliver crossed his arms tightly and pressed his feet into the ground to keep from nervously pacing.

            “ _Which one is the north wing?”_ Barry replied.

            “The one with the Big Belly Burger,” Wells answered quickly.

            “You have those here, too?” Oliver said, trying to distract himself.

            Cisco grinned at him. “They’re everywhere now, dude.”

            Oliver nodded briskly and had to grip his arms to stop himself from biting his nails. So much for distracting himself. He was never this worried when Barry went out in the field in Starling. Then again, the only meta in Starling was Barry himself. And at least in Starling, Oliver always had the option of following and helping him as the Arrow.

            Barry ran straight to where Cisco had directed him, but it was too late. The people around were frozen, unmoving, as Barry zipped through the crowd. He saw the woman, lying on the floor, half in the elevator.

            Her eyes were open, empty, staring back at him, accusatory. _You weren’t fast enough,_ they seemed to say. Barry felt the lightning coursing through his skin, and he noticed the green gas moving away from the scene.

            He ran after it, desperate to blame someone other than himself, and the gas became a man.

            “Why did you kill that woman?” he demanded.

            The man turned around, smiling. “She deserved to die,” he said simply, coldly. “Now go run away. I still have one more name on my list. Don’t make me add you to it.”

            Barry’s hands curled into fists. He ran to hit the man, but his fist went right through him. The man’s fist became solid when he punched Barry in the stomach, though.

            Barry doubled over, groaning. He tried to hit back, but the man became air again. Then the poison seeped into his lungs, and he struggled to breath, gasping and falling to his knees.

            “Barry? Barry, can you hear me?” Wells said into the com.

            “His vitals are weak, but he’s alive,” Cisco said. “He’s probably fine.”

            “ _Probably_ isn’t exactly promising,” Oliver replied, and he could hear how strained his voice was.  _Get it together._

            Right then, Barry sped in, gasping, falling onto the desk. Oliver’s heart just about stopped. He ran over and held Barry’s arm, watching helplessly. _Please, don’t let anything happen to him._

“I can’t breathe,” Barry barely managed to get out.

            “He needs oxygen,” Wells said urgently to Cisco, who nodded, standing up quickly and running to the other room.

            Oliver brought his hand up to Barry’s cheek, feeling the panic set deep in his chest. Barry was struggling to breathe, just gasping and coughing. _This is what someone looks like before they die_ , Oliver thought, before shoving that feeling away. He couldn’t think like that right now. Oliver quickly picked Barry up, letting Barry’s head rest on his shoulder, and he followed Cisco, and put him on the hospital bed in the other room.

            Caitlin ran into the room after him. “Barry!” Wells was rolling in right behind her.

            “Cut me open,” Barry managed to get out. Oliver snapped his head down to look at Barry, eyes shocked and afraid. He did not like the sound of that. “The poison is still in me.”

            “He brought a sample,” Wells said, quickly barking orders to Cisco and Caitlin things that Oliver barely heard, barely understood.

            “Oliver, you need to get out of here, you can’t be in the way” Caitlin insisted, practically shoving him out of the room.

            But it was too quiet; he couldn’t hear what was going on. Oliver paced back and forth, trying to think of all the ways he could kill the meta that did this to Barry. It was all he could really do. He found himself wishing he’d brought his arrows so that he could just go do that right now.

            But instead, all he could do was wait, dreading the worst. He felt so useless. And all he could think about was how he was tied up, helpless on the ground, when Slade killed him mother and her body fell, right in front of him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conclusion of the Flash 1.03.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering how I'm updating so frequently, it's because I have four papers due this week

            Barry woke up, groggy, feeling almost hungover. He groaned a bit, bringing his hand up to his head. His lungs ached. He could breathe again, but it hurt a bit.

            “The Flash lives,” Cisco said with a grin.

            “You’d be dead if your lung cells didn’t regenerate so quickly,” Caitlin told him.

            “My chest feels like that one time I had a cigarette,” Barry mumbled, with a small smile.

            Oliver glared at him. “This isn’t funny, you could have-”

            “I didn’t,” Barry interrupted, his voice gentle. Oliver just shook his head, not meeting Barry’s eyes. _But it was too close,_ Oliver thought. _And I couldn’t do anything._

            “Now that we have the sample, we can analyze it, see what kind of poison it is, maybe figure out his human identity,” Wells said, eyes glued to the computer.

            Barry leaned up and pulled himself off of the bed. “I have to go.”

            “You should be resting,” Wells replied, his tone like a disappointed parent.

            Barry just shook his head and walked out of the room. Cisco and Caitlin exchanged a look, and Oliver followed Barry quickly, trying to catch him before he could speed off.

            Oliver settled into pace beside him, relieved that Barry was just walking. “Barry,” he said. He tried to think of something else to say, but he couldn’t. He was at a loss.

            Barry just sighed. “I should’ve been faster,” he said as he kept walking, head hung low and his shoulders slumped.

            Oliver put his hand on Barry’s shoulder. It was hard to see Barry hurting like this. “You can’t win every time, Barry,” he said softly. “It’s not possible.”

            Barry shook his head. “A woman _died._ ”

            “You can’t save everyone,” Oliver replied.

            “But I should’ve been able to save _her_ ,” Barry said. “That’s what I’m _supposed_ to do.”

            They got outside, and Barry leaned his back against the wall, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. Oliver studied his face for a moment, wondering what was going on in Barry’s mind right then. He didn’t know how he could help.

            Oliver leaned next to him, head turned, looking at Barry’s face. Barry’s eyes were still squeezed shut, and Oliver thought he might be able to see a tear clinging to Barry’s long eyelashes.

            “How do you do it?” Barry asked, his voice small.

            Oliver sighed. “I don’t know.”

            “Is this what it’s like? Being a hero?”

            Oliver considered that for a moment, his eyes gliding down to Barry’s mouth, and then to the ground. “You’d know better than I would, Barry,” he said quietly.

            They stayed there for a while in a heavy silence, just leaning against the wall, and going over all the people that they could’ve saved, all the people they failed, all the people that are dead or hurt because they didn’t do their jobs.

            Barry thought of his mother, of his father, of the woman in the elevator. He thought of Oliver, how he had no idea how to make Oliver happy. Oliver thought of Tommy, of his mother, of Sara. He thought of Barry, how he couldn’t make these feelings of hopelessness and failure that Barry had go away.

            Oliver leaned up, saw how the sun had moved across the sky. He glanced at Barry, whose eyes were still closed. He reached out and squeezed Barry’s shoulder. “We should go back in there, Barry,” Oliver said gently. “We still have work to do.”

            Barry looked up and met his eyes, nodding slightly.

            They walked back in, and Cisco glanced over at them.

            “We figured it out,” he said.

            “The gas in your system was the gas that they use to execute people on death row,” Wells said.

            “So who was executed the night the particle accelerator exploded?” Barry prompted. Oliver heard how _normal_ Barry’s voice sounded, and he suddenly understood why people were always asking him to take the mask off. It hurt to hear Barry acting like he was fine when Oliver knew that he wasn’t.

            “A man named Kyle Nimbus,” Caitlin said, pulling up his picture. “He was a hitman for the crime family, and the woman that died was the judge at his trial. She sentenced him to death. It explains why he went after them, anyway.”

            “Yeah, that’s him,” Barry said, looking at the picture, and then he remembered what Nimbus had said about there being one more person on his list. “Wait, pull up the arrest record.”

            Caitlin frowned and looked at Barry, concern showing in her eyes. “Barry, Joe was the lead detective who caught him.”

            “Barry-” Oliver started, but Barry was already gone, papers fluttering behind him. Oliver brought his hands up to the back of his head, sighing. “God, he never _listens_.” He wanted to be angry, but he was mostly just scared.

            “Must be a terrible roommate, then,” Cisco joked with a grin.

            “Hm?” Oliver said, frowning, before he remembered the story Barry had told everyone. “Oh, right, yeah.”

            Barry ran straight to the Wests’ house, skidding to a stop by the dining room table.

            Joe looked up in surprise, a box of evidence sitting open on the table, papers scattered around him. “Barry?”

            “The meta is Kyle Nimbus, he’s coming after you,” Barry blurted out. He paused, glancing at the mess. “What’s all this?”

            “It’s, ah, the evidence from your father’s case,” Joe replied. “I’ve been looking into it while you’ve been gone.”

            “Oh… Thank you.” Barry felt a tightness in his chest, and a sting of tears in his eyes, but he pushed the emotions aside. There would be time for that later. “We have to get you out of here,” he said urgently.

            Then a cloud of green smoke seeped under the door before forming into a man, and Nimbus grinned maliciously.

            Before anyone could make a move, Barry ran Joe to S.T.A.R. Labs and then came back to face the meta.

            Nimbus glared. “Come to finish what the gas chamber couldn’t?” he asked, his tone mocking. And then he transformed into the gas, charging at Barry.

            Barry dodged, running out of the house and onto the street

            Nimbus followed, back in human form. “You’re getting in the way of my plan,” he sneered, and he was the gas again, going after Barry.

            _“You can’t fight him, Barry,”_ Caitlin’s voice came through the com. _“Just keep him coming at you, try to tire him out.”_

 _“Gas is the least stable form of matter, he won’t be able to stay in his mist form for long,”_ Dr. Wells added.

            “Great,” Barry muttered. “Just keep getting him to try and kill me. Sounds like fun.”

            He dodged the mist, weaving left and right, and then ran straight ahead, getting the green smoke to chase after him, right on his heels. He switched directions until the mist seemed to slow down, and he stopped and turned around, facing the meta.

            Nimbus returned to human form, panting and glaring. He turned into the mist one last time, charging at Barry.

            Barry leapt out of the way, and Nimbus reformed, gasping for air. Barry ran at him, finally hitting him, and Nimbus fell to the ground.

            _“Barry?”_ Wells said into the com.

            “We win,” Barry replied.

            After Oliver heard that through the speaker, he breathed an audible sigh of relief, collapsing against the wall behind him. He closed his eyes, practically shaking. _Thank god._

            Barry returned with Nimbus, and they locked him in the makeshift cell that Wells and Cisco had built. Nimbus pounded on the glass, and Barry smiled, eyes narrowed, as they closed the door.

            As they walked away from the particle accelerator and back upstairs, Joe pulled Barry aside for a moment. “Can we talk for a moment?”

            Barry nodded, waiting for the rest of the team to be out of earshot. “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier,” Barry said quietly. “But I’m not going to stop trying to save people.”

            Joe smiled, a little sadly. “I know, Bar. I know,” he sighed, hugging Barry. “Seeing you today… I’m so proud of you, kid.”

            “Thanks, Joe,” Barry said quietly, burying his face in Joe’s shoulder for a moment, letting himself feel like a kid again.

            Joe pulled away and gave Barry another hard look, squeezing his shoulders. “I still think you should avoid the Arrow. He killed a lot of people, Barry.”

            “He’s saved a lot of people, too,” Barry replied. He hadn’t exactly thought much about all the people Oliver killed- it seemed better not to dwell on it. “And he doesn’t kill people anymore.”

            Joe just shook his head and sighed. “There should still be consequences. The Arrow isn’t above the law. He should be in jail.”

            Barry’s chest tightened. Theoretically, he did agree with Joe- no one was above the law. But the thought of Oliver in jail, after all the good he’s done and all the good he can still do… He couldn’t bear it. “Joe, you don’t know him like I do. He’s a good person.”

            Joe furrowed his brow, unsure of how he could get through to Barry. He didn’t seem to be willing to budge on this one. “Barry, just be careful around him.”

            Barry nodded, knowing it would at least ease Joe’s mind. But he found the thought of having to be careful around Oliver a little ridiculous. He trusted Oliver, completely.

            “You’ll be back to visit again, soon, right?” Joe asked, smiling warmly.

            “Yeah, Joe, of course,” Barry replied. “And… Thanks. For looking into my dad’s case.”

            “It’s about time I did, Barry,” Joe said, a little guiltily.

            There wasn’t really anything left to say. They made their way back to where everyone else was waiting for them.

            Oliver had never been quite so happy to have a particular case be over. He stared at the door, waiting, until Barry and Joe finally came back. He wanted to yell at Barry for all the stress and panic he’d caused, but more than that, he wanted to hug him for still being alive. He did neither.

            Instead, he lightly touched Barry’s shoulder, just comforted by the warmth there. _He’s alive._ “Barry?”

            Barry met his eyes, and smiled, so genuinely that it made Oliver’s heart hurt. “Yeah?”

            Oliver quickly pushed away the thoughts of everything that could have gone wrong, every way that Barry could have died. “Let’s go home.”

            “Race you there,” Barry said softly. Oliver swore he saw a bolt of lightning in Barry’s eyes.

\---

            Oliver parked his bike outside of Barry’s apartment building. He took a deep breath, not sure exactly why he was nervous. He’d already been sleeping at Barry’s place for about a week. And Barry had offered him the spare room. And they had just told all of Barry’s friends in Central City that they were already roommates.

            They just hadn’t actually talked about it.

            Oliver just tried to brush off the discomfort and went up the stairs to Barry’s apartment. He stood outside briefly before knocking.

            Barry opened almost immediately, smiling warmly. “Hey, Ollie.”

            Oliver smiled back. _He called me Ollie again._ “Hey, Barry.”

            Barry stepped aside to let Oliver come in, closing the door behind him. “So, we never finished the conversation where you said you thought you’d take me up on my offer,” Barry said, teasingly.

            “We did already tell everyone in Central City, though,” Oliver replied with a short chuckle.

            “My offer does still stand,” Barry assured Oliver, his tone more serious and sincere. Of _course_ his offer still stood, Barry thought. He hated the idea of Oliver spending another night sleeping in the foundry. It was just too sad, like Oliver was just giving up his identity as Oliver Queen entirely and becoming only the Arrow.

            “Thank you,” Oliver said softly. He still didn’t quite understand why Barry was always so kind to him. He supposed Barry was this kind to everyone, so he thought he might as well stop questioning it at least.

            “You should maybe consider investing in a bed,” Barry said with a smile. “Or at least a mattress. I can’t imagine the couch is particularly comfortable.”

            Oliver shrugged. “I can’t complain.”

            “It’s pretty cold, do you need an extra blanket?” Barry asked.

            No, Oliver wasn’t exactly sensitive to the cold. But any excuse to put off going to sleep to keep talking to Barry. “Sure,” he said.

            “Alright, come on, I keep them in my closet,” Barry said with a smile, waving Oliver towards his room.

            Oliver hesitated for a moment before following. He glanced around the room, curious to see it. There was a full sized bed in the corner, with the covers in a complete mess, half on the floor. There was a desk, with books piled haphazardly, looking like they were seconds away from falling over.

            And then there was Barry, leaning up to grab a blanket from the top shelf in his closet. He turned and handed the blanket to Oliver, smiling kindly. “Hope this helps.”

            “Thank you,” Oliver said, holding the blanket awkwardly for a moment. He hesitated, not quite wanting to leave the room. He took a step closer to Barry, close enough to notice that Barry was about an inch taller than him. Oliver half expected him to move away, but he didn’t.

            “Barry,” he stared. He looked right into Barry’s eyes, desperately, needing Barry to hear him. “You need to be more careful. You almost died today.”

            “I didn’t, though,” Barry replied, a cocky grin forming. “What, you gonna lecture me about how I need to think before I act?”

            Oliver sighed and shook his head. “No lectures,” he said, his voice low. _He’s not getting it._ “Something could have happened to you, Barry.”

            The smile faded from Barry’s face, as he studied Oliver’s face, brows furrowed. Oliver didn’t look angry. He just looked sad, maybe even a little scared. Barry took a step closer to Oliver, close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from Oliver’s skin.

            “Oliver-” he started, his voice apologetic. He felt guilt rise in his stomach, about how much worry he might have cause Oliver, and how he didn’t even really notice.

            But then Barry’s phone rang. He frowned and looked down at it.

            “Hey, Iris,” he said into it. He looked at Oliver apologetically, but Oliver just nodded and left the room. Barry felt noticeably colder when he was gone.

            “You left without saying goodbye,” she said in an accusatory tone.

            “Yeah, sorry, I had to leave kind of suddenly,” he replied. “Oliver needed to get back.” He moved over to his bed and sat down, leaning on his arm.

            “Well, if it was for Oliver, I guess I’ll forgive you,” she teased. “So I told my dad about me and Eddie.”

            “Oh, yeah?” Barry replied. He noticed a distinct lack of jealousy rising in his throat at the mention of Eddie. Maybe being away was working. “How’d he take it?”

            “Better than I thought,” Iris said with a laugh. “I mean, Eddie is terrified, but it seems like it’ll be okay.”

            “That’s good,” Barry said, smiling.

            “Yeah, I think so,” she said. “Oh, hey, did you hear? There’ve been sightings of the Flash around Central City.”

            “Oh really?”

            “Yes, really, he’s real,” Iris sighed. “Anyway, maybe he decided to leave Starling, you know? Maybe we’ll get our own vigilante in Central City. A better one than yours.”

            “Hey, the Arrow isn’t so bad,” Barry replied, chuckling. “He saved Starling City just a few months ago.”

            It was nice to to talk to her like this, Barry thought. Casually, calmly, with no sudden chest pains when it hit him that she didn’t love him back. He wasn’t over her. Not yet. But for the first time, it felt like he could be, someday. Like he wouldn’t always be pining for her.

            In the living room, Oliver sat on the couch, staring at his own phone. It was late. Maybe he shouldn’t. His finger hovered over Thea’s number before he finally pressed it.

            She picked up on the third ring. “Hey, Ollie.”

            It was good to hear her voice. “Hey, Thea.”

            “Where have you been?” she asked, not unkindly.

            “Yeah, I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you got back, I had to go to Central City,” he explained. He hesitated, trying to word it so it wouldn’t be a lie. “Since Barry helped me out by talking to you, I figured I should return the favor, and there was an emergency there he needed help with. Sorry.”

            “It’s fine, Ollie, don’t worry about it,” she replied. “Who is Barry, anyway? I’ve never heard of him before, and suddenly, you trust him enough to send him to get me.”

            “He’s, uh… He’s my roommate.” Well, it wasn’t a lie.

            “Your… roommate?” Thea answered slowly, sounding unconvinced.

            “Well, we’re not billionaires anymore,” Oliver said, keeping his tone light. “Rent is expensive.”

            Thea laughed. “Well, I guess there’s that.”

            Oliver paused a moment. “Thea, can we meet for dinner tomorrow?”

            “Yeah, of course,” Thea replied.

            “Good, I have some things I need to tell you,” Oliver said carefully.

            “What are are they?” she said, her voice apprehensive.

            Oliver took a breath. _Was he really going to do this?_ “Anything you want to know, Thea. I’m done keeping secrets.”

\---

            Eobard Thawne glanced around the hallway before pressing his hand against the wall, until the entrance appeared and he slid in, letting the wall close again behind him, like it had never been open.

            He took a deep breath, standing out of his chair. Much better. He felt the wheelchair was necessary, to really throw people off his trail, but it was nice to be able to stand again.

            It had been an illuminating visit from the Flash and the Green Arrow. He thought he didn’t have to worry about Barry Allen and the Green Arrow- or, he supposed, the Arrow, at this point in time. He had assumed, wrongly it seemed, that Barry would be appalled by Oliver Queen’s darkness, by his willingness to be violent, and it would cause poor Barry to come running home to Central City, right into the arms of his idol, Harrison Wells. Eobard’s plan wouldn’t work if Barry didn’t trust Dr. Wells, and it wouldn’t work if he wasn’t able to train Barry.

            If Barry stayed in Starling, where there was no one to teach him how to use his powers, he might never learn how to phase through objects, much less time travel. It simply wouldn’t do.

            “Gideon,” Eobard said. “Show me the future.”

            “Of course,” Gideon said in her smooth voice. “The future remains intact.”

            Well, at least there was that, Eobard thought to himself. He smiled, satisfied by the article announcing the Flash’s disappearance. It would all work out in due time, he supposed.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first half of Arrow 3.03, The Magician.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I won't have all the episodes last two chapter. I got... carried away writing this one.

            Barry pulled himself out of bed and walked out to the kitchen to make some much-needed coffee. He smiled when he noticed that Oliver was still sprawled out on the couch. Most mornings, Oliver was awake and out before Barry got up.

            He made two cups of coffee, bringing one out to Oliver and sitting on the floor in front of the couch.

            “Ollie,” he said softly, gently touching Oliver’s shoulder.

            “Mm.” Oliver’s eyes fluttered open, and he stretched his arms over his head. Barry made an effort not to watch. “Morning, Barry,” Oliver mumbled, voice deep with sleep.

            “I have to go,” Barry told him, not sure if he was awake enough to process what he was saying. “I’ll try to find time to make you a copy of the key, okay?”

            Oliver rubbed his eyes and frowned, looking confused. “You’re not coming to the Arrow cave?”

            “I thought we weren’t calling it that,” Barry chuckled.

            Oliver groaned. “Felicity’s rubbing off on me.”

            Barry just shook his head. “I have work, Oliver. You know, my day job,” he flashed a grin. “I’ll be there tonight, though.”

            Before Oliver could respond, Barry had sped out of the room with a gust of wind and a flash of lightning. Oliver noticed the coffee on the table and smiled warmly. He had a hard time wiping the smile off for the rest of the day.

\---

            After Barry got off of work, he went to the foundry, where Oliver and Roy were already working.

            Roy frowned, glancing up at Barry. “You’re just walking normally.”

            Barry grinned. “Figured I’d switch things up,” he said, dropping his bag and sitting down. “So where are Diggle and Felicity?”

            “He’s with his family.” Oliver looked up. “She’s at… work,” he replied, through gritted teeth.

            “Right, with _Ray Palmer_ ,” Barry said. He didn’t like how jealous Oliver seemed, though he couldn’t quite place why.

            Oliver just nodded tensely.

            “So what are we doing tonight?” Barry asked, wanting to keep the subject off of Felicity. For Oliver’s sake, he told himself.

            “Seems like it might be a quiet night, there doesn’t seem to-” Oliver was saying, but he was interrupted by the sound of metal scraping and a bow being pulled taut.

            Barry swiveled around, as everyone else did, and saw a woman with long black hair, dressed in all black, aiming an arrow at them. Aiming an arrow at Oliver, specifically. He froze for a moment, trying to figure out how to make his move. _She’s not going to shoot Oliver. I won’t let that happen._

            Oliver immediately rose, putting himself between Nyssa and Barry. He noticed Barry begin to tense, looking like he was getting ready to run, and he shook his head slightly at him, eyes pleading. _Don’t. Don’t do it._ The last thing Oliver wanted was for the League to know who Barry was. Barry cocked his head to the side a little, questioningly, but he didn’t move.

            “Where is she?” Nyssa demanded, her voice full of anger. “Where is Sara?”

            Barry’s heart dropped, and his fear faded. _Oh._ He looked down.

            “She came here for the League two weeks ago,” she continued. “We’ve not heard from her since.”

            Oliver took a step forward, eyes sad and brow furrowed. “There’s something I have to tell you,” he said evenly.

            Barry glanced up, and saw how the woman’s mouth opened slightly, her eyes widened a little. His chest ached for her, even as she pointed an arrow at Oliver’s heart.

            “Sara’s dead?” she whispered.

            Oliver nodded slightly. Nyssa lowered her bow slowly, her arms shaking.

            “I’m so sorry,” Barry said softly. He didn’t know this woman, but he could see how much Sara must have meant to her.

            Nyssa turned her attention to him. “It was an arrow, wasn’t it?”

            Barry didn’t say anything, just nodded. Oliver shot him a confused look.

            “Where’s her body?” Nyssa demanded, directing the question back at Oliver.

            “We buried her in her grave from seven years ago,” he replied, his voice low.

            Nyssa turned quickly, walking out of the room as fast and as quietly as she’d walked in.

            “She knows something,” Oliver said, almost to himself.

            Barry glanced at him, and quickly followed after Nyssa before Oliver could stop him. Oliver sighed loudly, leaning back on a table. _Of course. It’s like he has no sense of self-preservation._

            Roy looked at him warily. “What now?”

            Oliver hesitated, not sure if this was a good idea. He rubbed the back of his head, frustrated. “Trail after them. You know Barry, he’s going to try to talk to her.” He paused. “Make sure nothing happens. Be careful. I have to meet Thea”

            Roy nodded, walking away quickly. Oliver paused for a moment, taking a breath. It was stressful enough to be going to talk to Thea, but knowing that Barry was trying to talk to Nyssa… He wasn’t sure how he was going to focus.

\---

            Barry managed to catch up to Nyssa, and walked beside her for a moment. She shot him a withering glare, but Barry could see the hint of tears. “I’m Barry,” he said.

            “I am Nyssa, daughter of Ra’s al Ghul, heir to the demon,” she replied smoothly. Barry had no idea what she was talking about. “What do you want?”

            “I’m sorry about Sara,” he replied, his voice soft and sympathetic. “I can see how much she must have meant to you.”

            She spun around suddenly, aiming an arrow at him. He took a step back, putting his hands up. But he wasn’t afraid. “I loved her,” Nyssa replied through her teeth, glaring viciously.

            “I can see that,” Barry replied, offering her a smile. “Listen, I really just wanted to offer my condolences.”

            Nyssa lowered her bow and put it away, but her face remained hard. “I don’t need your condolences,” she replied, walking away again.

            Barry continued following her, despite her clear disinterest in talking to him. But he wasn’t giving up that easy. “We’re trying to find her killer, too, you know.”

            Nyssa shot Barry a look. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

            “No, not really,” Barry admitted.

            “I trained Sara in the League of Assassins,” she replied, her voice cold.

            Barry raised his eyebrows. “Well, that’s a friendly name.”

            “Are you going to follow me all the way to the cemetery?” Nyssa said sharply, irritated.

            Barry shook his head. “I’ll let you grieve alone,” he said softly. He smiled at her again. “I’m truly, truly sorry for your loss.”

            Nyssa just glared at him and turned away. When he didn’t say anything else, she looked back and he was gone. She couldn’t imagine what this ridiculous man was doing with Oliver. He clearly had no sense of self-preservation, nor a willingness to do what was necessary. He was soft, weak.

            Nyssa left the irritation behind her and made her way to the cemetery.

            When she got there, she found Laurel standing there, staring at the headstone.

            “Nyssa,” she said, her voice surprised.

            Nyssa didn’t respond just met Laurel’s eyes before walking past her and kneeling on the grave. _Sara Lance._ This headstone was commemorating a Sara from seven years ago, a Sara that Nyssa had never known. She looked at the date of death. It was like they had erased all the years that Nyssa had known Sara, all the years that she’d loved her.

            She was going to find whoever killed Sara, if it was the last thing she did. She swallowed her sadness, took a deep breath, and stood up again, turning to face Laurel.

            “You have my condolences,” she said, voice even and cool. “And that of my father, Ra’s al Ghul.”

            “I don’t want your condolences,” Laurel replied, cold and bitter. “And I definitely don’t want your father’s.”

            Nyssa didn’t respond, she just walked past Laurel, keeping her shoulders stiff and her pace controlled.

            “She died with arrows in her chest,” Laurel called after her, angry. “Do you think that would have happened if she hadn’t met you?”

            “I know you grieve,” Nyssa replied, a slight tremor entering her voice. “But so do I.”

            She left the cemetery, left Sara’s body rotting in the ground, and went to the League’s safehouse. When she was alone, finally, she slid down onto the floor, unable to control herself any longer. She let out a quiet, broken sob and the tears began to fell.

            “Nyssa?” she heard from behind her. She jumped up and spun around, leaping towards to voice, holding a knife to the man’s neck.

            “I’m sorry for intruding,” Barry said, his voice fairly even for having a knife against his throat. “Are you ready to talk?”

            “I could kill you,” Nyssa replied, glaring.

            “But you won’t,” Barry answered.

            She pulled her arm back, releasing him. He was right, she wasn’t going to kill him. There was no point to it. Not yet, anyway. “What do you want?” she said coldly.

            Barry hesitated, unsure. He hadn’t spoken to Oliver about this. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea. But he was already here. “The arrows used to kill Sara,” he told her. “They had a striking resemblance to the arrow’s the Dark Archer used.”

            Nyssa expression darkened, and her eyes hardened. “ _Merlyn_ ,” she hissed, clenching her fists. “I knew it.”

            “We have evidence back at the foundry,” Barry told her. “Let us help you.”

            Nyssa hesitated, not exactly thrilled with the idea. But she nodded. If it would help her catch Merlyn faster, it was worth it.

\---

            “Sorry I’m late,” Oliver said, sitting down at the table. Already off to a great start.

            “Late is on time for you,” Thea said with a smile. “I’ve missed you, Ollie.”

            Oliver smiled back. “I’ve missed you, too. Listen, dinner’s on me.”

            “Aren’t you broke?” Thea replied, with a small smirk.

            Oliver paused. “Well, aren’t you?”

            Thea shook her head, the smirk growing. “I’m getting the club back. I have investors and everything.”

            _The club. Right above where all the arrows and the computers are._ “Thea, that’s great.”

            “So,” Thea started. “What did you have to tell me?”

            Oliver opened his mouth, but his phone rang. Roy. “I’m sorry, I have to take this,” he replied, apologetically.

            Thea shrugged. “I should be used to this by now.”

            Oliver felt a little stung by that, but there was nothing he could do. “I promise, we’ll talk later. I promise I’ll tell you everything.”

            Thea just smiled, but she didn’t look convinced.

            But Oliver couldn’t worry about that. He had to take this. He walked outside, answering the phone.

            “ _She went to the cemetery, and now she’s in this broken down building, might be a League safehouse,”_ Roy said. He hesitated for just a moment. “ _Barry is there._ ”

            Oliver stiffened, taking a deep breath. Barry was going to be the death of him. “Send me the address.”

            “ _Wait, they’re leaving,”_ Roy replied. “ _They look like they’re heading to the foundry.”_

“If Nyssa doesn’t kill Barry, I’m going to,” Oliver breathed, rubbing his temple. _It’s like he’s trying to give me a heart attack._ “Meet me there,” he told Roy.

\---

            By the time Roy and Oliver got there, Barry and Nyssa were already in the foundry, Nyssa pacing, and Barry sitting.

            “Merlyn was a member of the League of Assassins,” Nyssa was saying. “He was released from his contract-”

            “ _Merlyn?”_ Oliver interjected as he walked in, crossing his arms. “As in Malcolm Merlyn?”

            Barry looked up from where he was sitting, his arms leaning on his knees. “He’s alive, Oliver.”

            Oliver’s stomach turned. He remembered what Barry had said about the arrows in Sara’s chest. The Dark Archer. He should’ve listened.

            “We received word from a reliable source that he faked his demise,” Nyssa said coolly, looking at Oliver. “Your mother.”

            “But wasn’t his death confirmed? Like in an autopsy?” Roy said, frowning.

            “Merlyn had resources all over the city,” Oliver replied, crossing his arms.

            Nyssa turned to Barry. “You said you found evidence on Sara’s person?”

            Barry nodded. “She had a blank piece of paper hidden in her boot,” he replied. “Only, I don’t think it was blank, it seems to have some kind of chemical residue on it. I was thinking it was some kind of invisible ink, only I’ve never seen this type before.”

            A smirk crept onto Nyssa’s face. “Do you have a flame?”

            Barry’s eyes widened in realization. “Of course! How could I not think of that?” He ran to get the paper, and Oliver set up a flame.

            They put it over the heat, and a code began to form.  

            “Is this a League thing?” Barry asked Nyssa excitedly. “Because this is awesome.”

            She just looked at him for a moment. Eyes narrowed. “Where did you find this one, Oliver?”

            Oliver chuckled. “He’s a CSI at the SCPD. We brought him in to analyze forensics when we found Sara.”

            Nyssa just nodded, looking away from Barry again. He was a strange addition to the team, this man who tried to comfort the daughter of the leader of the League of Assassins and got far too excited about the note. He unsettled her a little. He didn’t seem afraid of her.

            “It’s ghost ink,” she told Oliver.

            Oliver nodded. “It’s Sara’s handwriting. Notes from her surveillance of Merlyn.”

            “It looks like she reached out to Lance for help,” Barry said, noting the part that mentioned _Dad._

            Oliver sighed. “I’ll call Laurel. See if she’ll look into it.”

\---

            Laurel came back to the foundry with an address for a person that Sara had supposedly paid a visit to. Oliver immediately moved to get his suit, but paused when he noticed Barry was doing the same.

            He grabbed Barry’s arm, pulling Barry towards him. “Why don’t you stay here with Laurel?” he said, his voice low.

            Barry raised his eyebrows. “You want me to sit this one out?” Barry said.

            Oliver hesitated. “We can’t have the League knowing what you can do, Barry.”

            Barry sighed and pulled his arm away from Oliver. “Fine,” he replied.

            Oliver shrank back a little at the coldness in his tone, but he knew he was right about this. He left with Nyssa and Roy, leaving Barry and Laurel alone in the foundry.

            “I guess we’re sidelined for this one,” Laurel said, sounding bitter. She crossed her arms and sat down.

            Barry shrugged. “Guess so.” He hesitated. “Do you ever go out with them?”

            “I’ve been trying to,” Laurel replied. She glanced at him. “Oliver won’t train me.”

            Barry chuckled. “That sounds like Ollie.” _Always trying to protect people._

           Laurel raised her eyebrows in surprise at the use of the nickname. 

            Barry didn't notice. “Maybe he’ll come around,” he said, his voice light, optimistic.

            “I don’t think so,” Laurel replied. She glanced around the room. “Where’s Felicity?”

            “She’s been working a lot,” Barry replied. Code for: avoiding Oliver, he suspected.

            “Right,” Laurel said. She turned to Barry and smiled. “My dad has mentioned you. The new CSI.”

            Barry laughed a little nervously. “Yeah?”

            “Yeah,” Laurel replied with a grin. “He says you’re brilliant. And that you’re always late. And that you babble.”

            Barry nods, raising his eyebrows. “Yeah, that about covers it.”

            “Does it?” Laurel said, her tone changing from teasing to curious. “When you first came here, you and Oliver appeared suddenly. Like you teleported or something. No one has explained to me what exactly happened yet.”

            Barry grinned. “Want me to show you?”

            Before Laurel could even finish nodding, Barry ran and brought back two donuts, handing her one with a cocky smile.

            “Wow,” she breathed, taking it. “That’s pretty impressive.”

            Barry shrugged. “Certainly comes in handy.”

            “So you’re the red blur that I keep seeing theories about?” Laurel pressed.

            “I believe they’re calling me the Flash,” Barry corrected.

            “Catchy name,” she commented, smiling.

            “Yeah,” Barry replied. There was a pause in the conversation, and he frowned a moment, hesitating. “Listen, Laurel, I don’t want to overstep here.”

            Laurel stiffened a little, her smile fading. “What?”

            “I see your father every day,” he started. He felt a little awkward; he didn’t really know Laurel that well. “He hasn’t really been acting like someone who just lost their daughter.”

            She looked away, eyebrows drawn together and lips pressed in a straight line.

            “You haven’t told him, have you?” Barry asked gently.

            She shook her head, then turned back to look Barry in the eyes. “How can I?”

            Barry nodded, understanding. “I’m not going to try to tell you what to do,” he told her. He could tell it probably wouldn’t work anyway. “But not telling him isn’t going to make it not true. And I know that I would want to know if I were him.”

            Laurel didn’t reply, just nodded. She knew he was right. She knew her father deserved to know what happened to Sara. But she hadn’t been able to get the words out. She didn’t want it to be real.

            Barry nudged her gently. “Sorry,” he said quietly, with a kind smile.

            She shrugged and smiled back. “Thanks.”

            Barry paused for a moment, before smiling a little more brightly. “So, I know I’m not Oliver,” he said. “I mean, I definitely don’t have his training. But you can spar with me, if you want.”

            Laurel just looked at him, arching an eyebrow.

            He chuckled. “Seriously, Oliver fights like he’s big, since he is. I was taught self-defense as a kid to fend off bullies, so I actually have a few tricks for taking down people who are bigger than you.” He shrugged. “It could help. It’s worth a shot, anyway.”

            Laurel smiled, considering it. She couldn’t help but wonder where Oliver had met Barry. He just didn’t seem like the kind of guy that would be on board with some of Oliver’s methods. He seemed to kind, too warm. Oliver could be sweet, but he put up a front. This guy was just openly kind and trusting.

            “Alright,” she said, getting up and grinning. “But no using your speed,” she added quickly, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

            “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Barry replied with a grin, following her over to Oliver’s sparring pad.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second half of Arrow 3.04.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been less than a week and I've already written ten chapters. Procrastination is a hell of a motivator.  
> Hey, maybe next chapter, I'll let the boys be happy for a minute, wouldn't that be nice?

            They had him. Malcolm Merlyn was there, right there, at the address they’d gotten from Lance. He wasn’t even supposed to be there, but they’d gotten lucky.

            And then they’d gotten unlucky again. Merlyn had gotten away from Nyssa, and then away from Oliver. Oliver watched him get away, the man who’d leveled the Glades, who’d gotten Tommy killed, who apparently killed Sara. He’d had losses and setbacks before, but this one was particularly frustrating. He wanted to hit something.

            He had thought he’d been rid of Merlyn. He had thought he’d killed him. Oliver had even felt guilty about it, let the murder rest heavy on his shoulders, keeping him awake at a night. He felt like he’d never be free of Malcolm Merlyn. The Dark Archer was still out there, still causing the deaths of people Oliver loved.

            Sara would still be alive if Oliver hadn’t succeeded in killing Merlyn, he couldn't help but think. Sara would be alive, and Merlyn would be in the ground, where he couldn’t hurt anyone.

            But Oliver wasn’t a killer anymore. He couldn’t afford to think like that, not now.  

            He marched into the foundry, Nyssa, Roy, and Diggle shortly behind him. He was already frustrated, when he saw Barry and Laurel on the sparring pad, practicing. He shot Barry a glare, which Barry did not catch. 

            Oliver managed to restrain himself from jumping straight into a lecture. He’d have to have a few words with Barry later, though.

            “Hey, how did it go?” Barry said brightly, stepping off the mat and grabbing a towel.

            “Did you find Sara’s killer?” Laurel added quickly.

            Oliver took a breath, regaining composure. “Our suspect is Malcolm Merlyn,” he told her. “We found him earlier. He got away from us, but I managed to hit him with an arrow that contained nanotechnology Felicity designed. It should have a GPS signal, and hopefully, we’ll be able to find him.”

            “You had a shot at Merlyn,” Laurel said, her voice low and angry. “And you didn’t kill him?”

            “I tagged him with the tracer arrow,” Oliver replied calmly. “We’ll be able to find him.”

            “Yeah? And what then? Will you still let him live?” Laurel demanded, taking a step towards him. Nyssa cocked her head to watch Oliver’s response.

            “I’m not a killer,” he said. Laurel and Nyssa both glared, clearly unsatisfied with that answer.

            “But Malcolm Merlyn is,” Laurel pointed out. “How many people are you going to let him kill, Ollie?”

            “Do you think that’s what Sara would want?” Oliver replied, keeping his voice low.

            “Yes,” Laurel replied without hesitation. “Sara wasn’t afraid of doing what has to be done.” She spun around and left the room.

            Nyssa watched her leave for a moment, then turned to Oliver. “Let me speak with her,” she said, before following Laurel out of the room.

            Oliver sighed crossing his arms and looking at the floor. He wasn’t a killer anymore. He wasn’t. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been tempted. He’d already killed Merlyn once, so why couldn’t he do it again? But he couldn’t start making exceptions. He’d already been down that road. He didn’t want to be that person, not anymore. He couldn’t be a hero if he killed.

            “Merlyn may try to contact Thea,” Oliver said to Roy.

            “I’m on it,” he replied, understanding, and walking out swiftly.

            He turned back to Diggle and Barry, who were standing still, exchanging a glance. “The arrow tracer program. We have to see if it worked.”

            Barry nodded and settled in front of the computer, typing away.

            “Dig, let’s head back out to the streets, see what we can find,” Oliver said, picking up his bow.

            “What, I’m supposed to just wait here?” Barry said, not looking up from the screen.

            “You’re supposed to look into the tracer program,” Oliver said coldly as he walked away. He couldn’t quite deal with his anger at Barry yet. This wasn’t the time for it.  _He's just so reckless. He never listens._

            Barry shot a confused glance at Diggle, who just shrugged and followed Oliver out. Barry wasn’t sure exactly what was up with Oliver, but he tried not to think about it, just focusing on the work.

            It didn’t take very long.

            “I got a location on Merlyn,” Barry said to Oliver through the com. “Should I tell Nyssa and Dig, too?”

            “No,” Oliver replied. “I’m doing this on my own.”

            “Alright, fine, I won’t tell you what a bad idea that is,” Barry said, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice.

            “So don’t,” Oliver shot back. “Just give me the location.”

            A little taken aback and a little wounded, Barry told him the location, an air-conditioning factory, and Oliver promptly turned off his com. Barry sighed leaning forward on the desk. Oliver could be so stubborn and difficult. He could take a guess as to why Oliver was so on edge- he was getting so close to catching Sara’s killer. But that didn’t mean Oliver could just be reckless and revert back to the guy who refuses help.

            Barry sighed, debating with himself whether to go after Oliver. He knew Oliver wouldn’t be happy about it. But it’s not like Oliver was exactly giving him a choice. He couldn’t just sit by and wait while Oliver deliberately put himself in harm's way with no backup.

            He could’ve called Diggle, Barry thought to himself. Diggle would go back Oliver up, be there if something went wrong. But maybe he couldn’t get there fast enough.

            Barry could get there fast enough. So he ran, and got there just moments before Oliver did.

            Oliver prowled up to him. “What are you doing here, Barry?” he practically growled.

            “Making sure you don’t do something stupid,” Barry shot back.

            Oliver pushed his anger down, and walked past Barry into the building. But it was empty. “He’s not here,” Oliver snapped, glaring at Barry.

            “ _Hello, Oliver. That’s right, I’m not,”_ Merlyn’s voice can through a speaker. “ _Neat trick, I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”_

“When I find you-” Oliver began threateningly.

            “ _You will,”_ Merlyn assured. _“We need to talk.”_

            Barry shot Oliver a look. _It’s a trap. Don’t do it._

            “ _I’d prefer a venue less conducive to conflict,”_ Merlyn continued. “ _Nelson Plaza at Coldwater and Fifth, bottom of the stairs. It’s a very public place, leave your mask behind.”_ He paused a moment, for emphasis. “ _This is between the two of us. If I see even one of your associates, I promise you, you will not see me.”_

Oliver immediately marched out of the building, but Barry sped in front of him to block him from getting on his motorcycle.

            “Oliver, don’t do this,” Barry said, pleadingly.

            Oliver clenched his jaw. “Barry, move.”

            “Oliver,” he said, his tone getting desperate. “What if it’s a trap? You can't just go with no backup.”

            “Move,” Oliver repeated, glaring.

            Barry glared right back, defiantly. “I can’t let you do this alone.”

            Oliver paused a moment cocking his head to the side. “I’m sorry, you can't  _let_ me?”

            Barry sighed, shifting on his feet. _Why is he so difficult?_ “Please, Oliver, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you have to think about this.”

            “We will talk later, Barry, but for now, I have to go,” Oliver said, stepping around Barry to get to his bike. “Don’t follow me,” he shot back, before riding away.

\---

            Oliver got back to the apartment after his brief, fruitless meeting with Malcolm, feeling empty and drained. He collapsed onto the couch, leaning forward on his knees staring at the floor. Merlyn insisted he wasn’t Sara’s killer. Back to square one. Again.

            Barry came out of his room, and sat next to Oliver on the couch. He took a breath. “How’d it go?” he said, seriously, softly. “I see you made it back.”

            “Merlyn says he didn’t kill Sara,” Oliver replied flatly. His anger at Barry had faded. It took too much out him to stay mad at Barry. He glanced at Barry from the corner of his eye. “It wasn’t a trap.”

            “It was just another dead end,” Barry said. He looked at Oliver sympathetically. “I’m sorry, Ollie.”

            Oliver just shrugged. “Maybe we’ll never find who did it,” he said softly.

            “Maybe,” Barry said.

            They sat in silence for a few moments, barely even breathing.

            “So,” Barry started. “Are you gonna tell me what I did wrong?”

            Oliver glanced up at him, meeting his gaze briefly. “Would it kill you to actually listen to me every once in a while?” he said, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

            “It might,” Barry said with a smirk. “I haven’t tried it.”

            Oliver chuckled and shook his head. “I’m serious, though, Barry,” he said with a sigh. He paused, thinking he’d tackle the easiest thing first. “You knew I didn’t want to train Laurel.”

            “Yeah, _you_ didn’t want to,” Barry retorted. “And you still aren’t training her. I’m not even training her.”

            “You know what I mean,” Oliver said, shooting Barry a look. “You’re letting her practice with you.”

            “Oliver, you’ve met Laurel, right?” Barry said, rolling his eyes. “You refusing to train her doesn’t mean she’ll stop trying to get out there. It just means she won’t be prepared. You can’t stop her, Ollie.”

            Oliver sighed. “You may have a point.”

            “Finally, you admit I’m right.” Barry looked at Oliver. “What else is there?”

            Oliver turned his head to look at Barry, and Barry saw the pain in his eyes. “Barry, you can’t keep being this reckless. You’re going to get hurt.”

            “I’ll be fine,” Barry replied, frowning a little. He hadn’t put himself in any more danger than Oliver had.

            Oliver shook his head and brought his hand up to his neck. “You just... You keep going in blind, trusting people you shouldn't, not telling me what your plan is, if you even have one. It's dangerous." He paused for a moment. "Barry, I can’t lose you,” Oliver confessed, his voice quiet.

            Barry’s eyes softened. “You won’t.”

            “You can’t promise that,” Oliver replied. “Especially when you keep needlessly putting yourself in danger like this.” Oliver leaned toward Barry, putting his hand on the nape of Barry's neck, bringing his face close. He pressed his forehead against Barry’s. “Just be more careful,” he whispered, closing his eyes.

            Barry’s breath caught in his throat for moment. All he could focus on was how close Oliver was. “Okay,” he whispered back. "I'm sorry."

           Oliver pulled away again, leaning back on the couch. Barry didn't move for a while, feeling warm and breathless. After a while of sitting in silence, Barry got up and walked back to his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

\---

            Oliver met Thea for coffee the next morning, the stress visible on his face.

            Thea noticed immediately. He looked older, almost. “You alright?”

            Oliver just sighed and led her over to a table in the corner of the café. “I told you I was done with secrets,” he said, his voice strained. “So I have something I need to tell you.”

            “What is it?” Thea said. She frowned, studying his face.

            “I think I know what Mom was trying to tell us the night she died, right before…” He sighed and trailed off. “It’s Malcolm Merlyn. He’s alive.”

            Thea tensed, her eyes flitting away from Oliver. _He couldn’t possibly know, could he?_ No, he was telling her this assuming she wasn’t even aware that Merlyn was alive. He couldn’t know that she already knew, that it was him she was with in Corto Maltese. She took a breath, put on her façade. “How do you know this?”

            “One of Sara’s friends saw him,” Oliver said, almost under his breath. “He hasn’t tried to contact you, has he?”

            Thea shook her head, painfully aware of the hypocrisy of her lies when she spent so long punishing Oliver for his. Here he was, trying to be more honest, and here she was, slipping into the habit of lying. She tried not to think about it. “Thank you. For telling me.”

            Oliver furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes in concern. He leaned forward, placing a hand on Thea’s. “Are you okay?” he asked.

            It almost hurt Thea to see him this sincere. She almost wanted to tell him the truth. “I’m- I’m fine,” she said, and her phone beeped. “Sorry, I have to take this.”

            She practically ran out of the café, the taste of lies and guilt in the back of her throat. She was just like her mother, jut like her brother. No, not her brother, because he was trying to do better. She swallowed and answered her phone.

            Oliver watched her leave, cocking his head to the side. Something seemed wrong.

\---

            Oliver sighed, arms crossed. The foundry felt a little crowded with Laurel, Roy, Diggle, and Barry all there. But at that moment, anything would have felt crowded to Oliver.

            He had to tell Nyssa that there only lead was another dead end. Merlyn wasn’t the killer. Then he had to tell her that Thea was Merlyn’s daughter.

            And then she kidnapped Thea. And it was all Oliver’s fault. Because it was always Oliver's fault. 

            It was clear that Nyssa thought that Oliver had a conflict of interest here, that the reason he didn’t kill Merlyn was because of Thea. Maybe she was right.

            “Ollie, we’ll find her,” Barry said, leaning toward Oliver.

            Oliver looked at him, letting the kindness and hope in Barry’s eyes comfort him, if only for a moment. He turned to Laurel. “So what did you get?”

            “Not much,” she admitted. “Though this looked like it could be something.” She tipped the tablet towards Oliver, showing him the purple smoke. “Sara mentioned that the League’s communication system was outdated.”

            “Smoke signal,” Diggle said, understanding. “That could be it.”

            “Well, that gives me the location,” Oliver said, grabbing his bow and starting to head out.

            “Wait, don’t you mean us?” Barry said, grabbing his arm. _Don’t go alone._

            Oliver met his eyes briefly and then nodded. “Dig, you check the perimeter. Barry, you get Thea out of there. I’ll handle Nyssa.”

            Barry nodded, relieved. At least he could be there, in case something happened. In case Oliver got hurt.

            The plan wasn’t very complicated. Barry shot in, grabbing Thea and taking her outside, while Oliver fought Nyssa.

            Barry ran Thea outside, several blocks away just to be safe.

            Thea stumbled a little, staring at Barry in awe. “What just happened?”

            “You’re safe now,” Barry said, vibrating his vocal chords to disguise his voice. “Are you going to be alright?”

            Thea nodded, eyes wide. “Thank you,” she said.

            Barry nodded back before speeding back to the foundry to wait for Oliver and Diggle to come back.

            Roy and Laurel were there, Roy sitting, holding his head like he had a headache, and Laurel pacing.

            She stopped when she saw Barry enter the room. “What happened?”

            “I don’t know,” Barry admitted. “I just got Thea out of there.”

            They waited a while longer, the three of them in silence. Barry just stared at the door, waiting to see Oliver.

            There were a few ways this could go, and Barry didn’t like any of the possibilities. Firstly, Oliver doesn’t kill Merlyn, he just lets him go. Nyssa wouldn’t be happy about that. Neither would Laurel. Merlyn would still be able to hurt people. Second possibility, Oliver does kill Merlyn. He breaks his vow to not kill anymore. Barry could only imagine what Oliver would feel after that. He’d be hurting, broken all over again, back to thinking of himself as a killer and a monster.

            The third possibility was that Merlyn hurt or killed Oliver, or that Nyssa hurt or killed Oliver. Barry didn’t even want to consider that possibility. Oliver had to come back, he had to be okay. He just had to. Barry didn’t know what he’d do without Oliver. It hurt too much to think about.

            Barry breathed a quiet sigh of relief when Oliver did come back, seeming unscathed, with Nyssa and Diggle following close behind. _He’s okay,_ Barry told himself, feeling his chest loosen and his hand stop shaking.

            The second they were all in the foundry, Nyssa punched Oliver in the face with all her strength. He doubled over against the table with a grunt. Barry ran over, grabbing his shoulders, not even paying attention to Nyssa “You okay?” he asked, helping Oliver back up. He touched Oliver’s face gently where Nyssa had hit him, before thinking better of it and snapping his hand back to his side.

            Oliver just nodded. “I’m fine,” he said. Oliver just stood back up, straight and tall, and looked at Nyssa with understanding eyes. “I may have deserved that.”

            “You deserve worse,” she said, her voice low and dangerous, and she glared at Oliver like she was trying to kill him.

            “What’s going on?” Roy asked, bewildered.

            “Merlyn didn’t kill Sara,” Oliver said. “Which means whoever did is still out there.”

            “You’re a fool,” Nyssa hissed. “Who insults the memory of a woman he once loved.”

            Barry glanced at Oliver, wondering why he didn’t figure this out sooner. Oliver had been in love with Sara. It made so much sense.

            “I will honor Sara’s memory by finding and punishing the person who did this,” Oliver said, his voice strong and unwavering.

            Nyssa just shook her head, turning away to leave.

            “Nyssa,” Oliver called. She turned back to him, glaring. “So long as Malcolm Merlyn is in my city, the League will make no move on him. He is under my protection.”

            Nyssa frowned, looking surprised and offended. “You would incur the wrath of the League of Assassins? For _Merlyn_?” She spat his name like it was an insult.

            “I would do what I have to in order to buy the time necessary to find out what really happened with Sara,” Oliver replied, walking towards Nyssa, not breaking eye contact.

            “You have made an enemy tonight,” Nyssa said coldly. “One with a long memory.” She turned and left the foundry, icy and controlled.

            Barry watched her go, fear gripping his chest. _Oliver, what are you doing?_ Barry thought to himself. He glanced back to Oliver, who still looked calm and still, while Barry's heart beat fast and hard in his chest. He could practically hear it.

            Felicity’s heels clicked down the stairs and she looked at Barry, feeling the tension in the room. “What did I miss?” she asked him.

            Barry opened his mouth, but he was at a loss. _You missed Oliver Queen signing his own death warrant._

\---

            Barry and Oliver got back to their apartment together for once, and the second the door closed, Barry grabbed Oliver’s arm. “What were you thinking?” he asked sharply.

            “Merlyn is Thea’s father,” Oliver replied evenly. He tried to keep any emotions in check, instead just letting Barry express his. 

            “That doesn’t mean protecting him is worth putting _your_ life in danger,” Barry insisted. He let go of Oliver’s arm and sighed, dropping onto the couch. “What if the League comes after you, Ollie?”

            “They won’t,” Oliver said calmly, sitting down beside him.

            “You don’t know that,” Barry replied. “You were just telling me I can’t be reckless. Take your own advice.”

            “This is different,” Oliver said.

            “No, it isn’t,” Barry said quietly. “And you know it.”

            “I need to do this, Barry.”

            “You _need_ to make an enemy out of the League of Assassins? Seriously?” He shook his head and sighed. “This decision could kill you, Oliver.”

            “I know,” Oliver replied, staring at the ground.

            “And you still did it,” Barry said. He felt tears forming, but he swallowed and pushed them away. “How could you do this, Oliver?”

            Oliver didn’t say anything, just pressed his hands together. He couldn’t let Thea’s father be killed. Thea might never forgive him for that. But then again, Barry might never forgive him for this. 

            “We needs you,” Barry continued, his voice breaking. “ _I_ need you.”

            Oliver couldn’t think of what to say. They sat in silence for a few more painful moments, before Barry got up suddenly and began walking to his bedroom. Oliver heard a small, broken sob and jumped up after him.

            “Barry, wait,” Oliver said, grabbing Barry’s wrist and pulling him into his chest. He wrapped his arms around Barry, hugging him tightly, as he felt Barry’s arms circle around his waist. He pressed his lips briefly into Barry’s hair. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, as he felt Barry tremble against him. They stayed like that for a long time before Barry pulled away, not making eye contact, and left Oliver standing alone in the living room. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking place during Flash 1.05, in which Barry has to go back to Central

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The real nemesis of the Arrow and the Flash: phone calls interrupting their moments. Just put your phones on airplane mode, guys.

            It had been a comparatively calm week, and Barry could feel himself getting more relaxed. There hadn't been news from the League, and he let himself hope that it would turn out alright. Maybe Nyssa's threats were not as serious as they'd sounded. Barry really wanted to stay optimistic.

            He got home from a mercifully uneventful day at work, just to hear Oliver swearing loudly from the spare room. He frowned and walked in, but stopped in his tracks. He looked around the room with wide eyes. There were clothes in a couple large piles, books stacked on the floor, a mattress on its side leaning against the wall, and planks of wood scattered across the floor.

            “Uh… Oliver?” he said apprehensively.

            Oliver looked up from where he was sitting cross-legged on the floor. “Oh, hey, Barry,” he said nonchalantly, as though he hadn’t just yelled a string of curse words. “Wasn’t expecting you home so early.”

            “This is the time I always come home,” Barry said, one eyebrow arched. He leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms. “So, what’s going on here?”

            “Well, I-” Oliver started, rubbing the back of his neck. “I figured it was time I stopped sleeping on the couch and actually moved into the other bedroom.”

            “I see unpacking is going well,” Barry said dryly.

            Oliver shot him a glare. “Look, I bought this bed, and I just… can’t put it together,” he said through gritted teeth. 

            Barry let out a small chuckle and smirked. Then he sped around the room, reading the instructions for how to put the bed together and then building it in a matter of seconds. He zipped around folding all the clothes and putting them away in the closet, then moving on and organizing all the books and putting them on the bookshelves. He even put the mattress and the sheets on the bed.

            He came to a stop back in the doorway, leaning against the frame like he hadn’t moved at all. “You were saying?”

            Oliver looked stunned for a moment, but it wore off quickly and he shot Barry a glare. “Show off.”

            “Don’t complain, that was gonna take you all night,” Barry shot back with a laugh.

            “You organized the books wrong,” Oliver said, looking at the shelves.

            “I did not! Look, they’re organized by genre,” Barry pointed out, walking over.

            Oliver shook his head. “They should be organized alphabetically by last name of the author.”

            Barry rolled his eyes and sped around again, rearranging the books by the author’s last name. He stopped, looking expectantly at Oliver.

            Oliver cocked his head putting his hand on his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe you were right, it should be organized by genre.”

            Barry glared. “You’re messing with me.”

            Oliver broke out into a smile, and Barry couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes shone. “Well, you just seem to love using your speed so much.”

            Barry shoved Oliver playfully. “Come on, let’s order pizza. Celebrate you officially moving in.”

            “How many pizzas?” Oliver asked as he pulled his phone out.

            “Four. Wait, five. Extra large,” Barry said, grinning. “Pepperoni, jalapeños, and olives.”

            Oliver stared at him for a moment before rolling his eyes. “Your taste is absolutely ridiculous,” he said, punching in the number.

            Before he could finish trying to order the pizzas, Barry sped out of the apartment and came back with five pizzas from five different places. “This way, we can figure out which pizza place is the best one nearby.”

            Oliver put his phone away, sighing in exasperation and walking out to the living room, where Barry put the boxes on the coffee table. He sat on the couch, grabbing a piece and taking bite.

            Barry sat next him, handing him a plate. “It’s nice to have a minute to breathe,” he commented, grabbing his own piece.

            “What do you mean?” Oliver replied.

            “I mean, between moving up here and joining your team and having all these cases, it’s just been one thing right after the other,” Barry said, smiling at him. “It’s nice to have a day or two to relax. Almost like we get to just be people for a second.”

            Oliver considered this for a moment, almost sad, seeing that this was just a glimpse of a normal life. “Yeah,” he agreed slowly. “But you and I aren’t really cut out for an average life.”

            “I guess not,” Barry replied. He couldn't really imagine not working with Arrow and fighting crime together. It was such a large part of his life now. “But it’s nice to get a taste of normalcy every now and again.”

            As if on cue, Barry’s phone began to ring. He groaned, putting his pizza down. “Well, it was nice while it lasted,” he said to Oliver before answering the phone.

            _“Barry, we got another meta we don’t quite know how to handle_ ,” Cisco said.

            “I’ll be there soon,” Barry replied.

            Oliver sighed “Reality calls.”

            “Apparently,” Barry replied, rubbing his temples.

            “Should I come, too?” Oliver asked.

            But before Barry could answer, as if on cue again, the power in Starling City cut out all at once.  

            “Never mind,” Oliver sighed.

            “Should I stay?” Barry asked.

            “No, you go to Central. I’ll take care of whatever is happening here,” Oliver said gruffly, pulling himself off the couch.

            “I guess I’ll see you when I get back,” Barry said, a little reluctant to leave. But he grabbed four of the pizzas, leaving one for Oliver, and he ran to Central City.

\---

            Barry didn’t want to leave Starling, especially knowing that Oliver had a case to work on now, too. He couldn’t help but feel guilty, like he should be back there, where he belongs, helping Oliver. But he pushed away that feeling, and ran straight into S.T.A.R. Labs, where Wells, Cisco, Caitlin, and Joe already were.

            “Nice of you to join us, Barry,” Wells said, his voice cold as always. Something about the way he spoke unsettled Barry.

            “I brought pizza. So, what’s going on?” Barry asked, setting the pizzas down on the table and turning his attention from Wells to the rest of the room.

            “I gotta tell you, our new CSI is in way over his head,” Joe said with a slight smile. He said it without the chastising tone from last time, though. “We had a bombing, but there were no signs of the bomb. No fragmentation, no unique signature to be found. The poor CSI was incredibly confused. He said it was like the building blew itself up, like there was no bomb to begin with.”

            “But things don’t just blow up,” Barry said with a nod.

            “Exactly.”

            “It’s good we have a detective who can bring these cases to us, though,” Cisco said, shooting a smile at Joe. Barry raised an eyebrow, guessing that Joe has been around S.T.A.R. Labs more than he might have thought. He wondered if they’d had cases they hadn’t decided to call him in on.

            “So, what are we thinking?” Barry replied. “Meta who can blow stuff up?”

            Cisco grinned. “Yeah, maybe! No idea how it works or who it is yet, though.”

            “All we know is that the witness said the bomber was a woman,” Joe added.

            “No Oliver this time?” Wells said to Barry, with a knowing stare.

            Barry didn’t like how it felt like Wells could see right through him. “No, uh, Oliver had stuff to deal with back in Starling.” He turned back to Joe. “So how can I help?”

            “Well, the police department can’t do anything,” Joe told him. “The army has taken over the investigation.”

            “Which totally isn’t shady at all,” Cisco interjected.

            “General Wade Eiling,” Wells added. “I worked with him once. His techniques were… questionable. Our split was less than amicable.”

            “Anyway, we think a file was taken,” Joe said. “But our CSI didn’t exactly have time to figure out which one.”

            Barry grinned. “Give me the address.” And he was off, finding building and figuring out which file was missing in barely two minutes. The speed-reading certainly came in handy. He ran back with an empty file. All they had was a VA file number, but it was something.

            “Luckily for us, they’ve joined the new millennium and digitized their records,” Cisco said, typing away. “Alright, our girl’s name is Bette Sans Souci, an EOD specialist for the army. And she is gorgeous.”

            “Got an address?” Barry asked.

            Cisco nodded. “One person. In case of emergency.”

            Barry sped through this city, weaving his way through the cars, feeling the wind and the electricity in his skin. He wanted to get this case solved, so he could get back home. His time away from Central City hadn’t made him fonder of the place. The air still felt thick and he was antsy to get away again. It didn't help that he had no idea what was going on there, or what Oliver was dealing with. 

            He found her in an alleyway, her eyes scared and kind. She didn’t strike Barry as someone who would maliciously bomb a place. She just looked afraid, desperate. She didn't look like a criminal. 

            She ran when he said her name.

            “Come with me,” he said.

            “Don’t touch me,” she said.

            She didn’t seem like someone who would bomb a building on purpose because she wasn’t, Barry quickly realized, as he saw the purple glow sink into the emblem on his chest.

            He was back at S.T.A.R. Labs as quickly as he’d left, pulling a shirt over his head. A meta-human who can cause explosions through tactile contact. Who, it seems, doesn’t have a choice about it.

            “I don’t think she meant to hurt me,” Barry said, after Cisco lamented the loss of his suit. Barry already didn’t like this case. It was one thing to go after people who were deliberately trying to hurt others, but this woman was not evil. She wasn’t a villain. But she was still dangerous.

            _Oliver would know what to do_ , he found himself thinking. He wasn’t even sure if it was true. Oliver seemed just as conflicted as Barry at times. Maybe he would say she’s dangerous, it doesn’t matter, you have to catch her. Maybe he would say that she’s innocent, just another victim of Wells’ experiment, help her.

            Barry thought about calling Oliver. Asking him what to do. Maybe just hearing Oliver’s voice would help. He pulled out his phone, staring at Oliver’s number for a second, considering it.

            “Barry?” Caitlin said, calling him out of his daydream.

            “Sorry,” he said, putting his phone away. _Oliver, what would you do here?_

            “So, human bomb,” Joe said with a sigh. “Must be Tuesday in Central City.”

            “General Eiling is not one to give up an _asset_ without a fight,” Wells said.

            Barry’s skin crawled at the way Wells called Bette an asset, even realizing that he was just saying what General Eiling thinks of her. “We have to find her before he does,” Barry said, his voice sure and strong, even though he felt neither.

            “Barry, can I see you for a second?” Joe said, leading him out into the hall. “Could you talk to Iris?”

            “Iris?” Barry replied, confused. “What about?”

            “She’s getting a little too interested in the news over in Starling,” he explained. He paused and sighed, rubbing him temples. “She’s started writing a blog about the Flash.”

            "Well, that's not good," Barry replied, frowning. “But there’s not much I can do about that, Joe.”

            “Could you try anyway?” Joe asked.

            Barry paused for a moment, looking at Joe’s pleading face, before nodding and running to Jitters. He didn't really want to see Iris. Being away from her had given him such relief, not having to feel the pain of watching the person he loved be with someone else. When he lived here, he saw Iris every day, and even though she was his best friend, it still hurt, every single day. But he couldn't avoid her forever. 

            “Iris!” he called as he walked in, beaming.

            Iris turned. “Barry!” she said, running over to him and giving him a hug. “Don’t you ever call before visiting?”

            Barry chuckled. “No, apparently not,” he replied. She had a point; he hoped it wasn’t suspicious.

            “Did you bring your _friend_?” she said, smiling widely, glancing behind him.

            Barry just rolled his eyes. “No, Oliver is back in Starling.”

            She sighed. “That’s too bad. I guess I’ll settle for you, then.”

            He shot her a look of mock annoyance. “You’re too kind.”

            “So, how’s Starling?” she asked, sitting down with him at a table.

            “Well, you seem to know already actually,” he replied.

            “And what’s that supposed to mean?” she retorted, arching an eyebrow.

            “Your blog,” he replied.  _About the Flash, who Iris was apparently a fan of._ Barry wondered what she'd think if she knew it was him. 

            “Well, I can’t help how fascinating the Flash is,” she said, leaning forward on her elbows. “He saves people. I mean, how can he even do what he does? Why aren’t you more interested? You've always been interested in the impossible, and it's _happening._ ”

            “Well, assuming he’s even real, you mean,” Barry said in his best skeptic voice. “And they say he works with the Arrow, and the Arrow kills people. How could he be a hero?” He mentally apologized to Oliver for that.

            Iris just rolled her eyes. “The Flash doesn't hurt people, and he isn’t responsible for what the Arrow does. Besides, doesn’t the Arrow not kill anymore?”

            “That’s not the point,” Barry said, shaking his head. “I just think you should stop writing about him. It's not safe, putting yourself out there like that. People might think you know more than you do.”

            “Well, I don’t remember asking what you thought,” Iris shot back. She hesitated, and then smiled. “You know, if you _really_ want to convince me to back off here, maybe I should come visit you in Starling for a weekend. You know, hang out in the city he’s clearly terrorizing.”

           "You know, work is really busy in Starling," he said, his voice apprehensive. 

           "Well, I'm sure you still have days off," she replied.

            Barry opened his mouth to argue, but he couldn’t. He didn’t have a good reason why she shouldn’t come visit, and now that she’d said it, it was too late. He wasn’t going to be able to get her to stop writing about the Flash, and he wasn’t going to be able to quell her interest.

            After running back to S.T.A.R. Labs, Barry went right to Joe. “Well, Joe, I definitely made things worse.”

            Joe looked at him, his face dismayed. “You didn’t.”

            “She wants to come visit now. Spend a weekend in Starling. Investigating the Flash.” Barry sighed and dropped down onto a chair. “This is why we shouldn’t have me doing these things.”

            “Well, I hate to interrupt, but the lovely Miss San Souci has been spotted,” Cisco interjected. “And you have to get to her before Eiling.”

            Barry pulled himself up and sighed. “Alright.”

            He got there quickly, but not quite fast enough. Bette was shot at, grazed by a bullet, because Barry didn't even notice what was happening.

            He knelt down next to her, eyes earnest and begging. “I can get you out of here. I can help you understand what’s happening to you.”

            She looked up at him, searching he face. “How?”

            “It happened to me, too,” he said, and he heard the troops coming up behind him, General Eiling’s men coming to collect. They had to get out of there. He grabbed her and sped her away, all the way to S.T.A.R. Labs. This wasn’t her fault, he couldn’t let her get hurt for the crimes of Eiling and Wells.

            Wells explained to her what happened. Caitlin gave her gloves to cover her hands that had become weapons.

            _That could’ve been me,_ Barry thought to himself. If he had been somewhere else, doing something else, he might not have gotten speed. He might have gotten a destructive power that he couldn’t control. He might have to worry about blowing up anything he touched. He couldn’t even imagine what he’d have done.

            Bette explained what had happened, how shrapnel had hit her at the same time as the dark matter did, how she became a lab rat for General Eiling. Barry watched her tell her story, eyes watery and legs weak. He had gotten lucky. She hadn’t.

            And what could they do?

            “Do you think we can help her?” Barry asked Wells.

            “We have to understand how she works first,” came the reply. “We have to see her in action.”

            “You want her to blow stuff up,” Cisco said, excitedly. “Now we’re talking!”

            Barry couldn’t share in the excitement. He couldn’t even share in the scientific enthusiasm. This girl wasn’t an experiment. She was a human being. Barry didn’t know how to help her.

            As they had her touch Frisbees and monitored the explosions, Barry didn’t say anything.

            “I’m gonna spend the rest of my life terrified to touch another human being,” Bette told him.

            And Barry’s heart broke for her.

            “Have they tried to help you?” she asked.

            He heard the underlying question. _Have they tried to get rid of your powers? Have they tried to fix you?_ And what could he say to that? He didn’t have to be afraid of his powers. He couldn’t say anything to comfort her.

            “If they could reverse your powers so you weren’t a meta-human,” she said. “Would you?”

            He took a breath. “A friend told me I was given my speed for a reason, that I was chosen,” he said, thinking of Oliver’s kindness when he had gone to the roof that night. Why couldn’t he find the words to help this girl, like Oliver had for him? “I don’t know if I believe that, but I always wanted to help people. Now I can.”

            She didn’t look consoled. Barry wished Oliver were there. He saw the response in her eyes- _How can I help people with a power like this?_

            Oliver would know what to say. Oliver would be able to help.

            That night, as he sat in his childhood bedroom, he stared at his phone, wondering if he should call Oliver. He hadn’t told him how long he’d be away. Did Oliver know he wasn’t going to be home tonight?

            That wasn’t why Barry wanted to call him. It also wasn’t why he wanted to run back to Starling and spill everything that was happening here to Oliver. He just wanted to talk to him, hear what Oliver had to say.

            But he didn’t, he just went to sleep as a guest in Joe’s house, tossing and turning all night.

            The next day, he went to S.T.A.R. Labs, and was welcomed by grim faces.

            “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked.

            “Caitlin was about to give me the not-so-good news,” Bette replied.

            Caitlin looked guilty, like the medical results were her fault somehow. Bette’s powers were not reversible. The powers she had acquired were a part of her now.

            Barry watched the tears form in her eyes. He had gotten so lucky, and she hadn’t. It wasn’t fair.

            “Bette...” he tried, but there was nothing he could say.

            “It’s okay,” she said, even though it wasn’t. “I just need a minute.”

            Barry watched her leave, bringing his hands up to the back of his head and sighing. He felt useless. He couldn’t help Bette. None of his heroics would fix this. This couldn’t be fixed.

            He wanted to go home to Oliver.

            “She could join your team,” he tried. “Help out here with meta-humans when I’m stuck in Starling.”

            But he knew it was an empty hope. All because he got lucky and she didn’t.

            “It’s too dangerous,” Wells said.

            _Say what you really mean,_ Barry screamed in his head. _You mean that_ she’s _too dangerous._

            _It could’ve been me_ , he thought. _Why wasn’t it me?_

            And it only got worse the next day.

            “Where’s Bette?” he asked as he walked into the lab.

            “She left,” Cisco said, his voice flat.

            It didn’t take long to figure out where she was, that she was going after General Eiling so he couldn’t keep coming after her.

            “She’s turning herself in,” Cisco said, looking at the video feed.

            “No, she’s not,” Barry said before running after her. _Please let me get there in time. I have to be fast enough._

            She was standing on the edge of the water, just waiting to be caught so she could fight back.

            But Barry knew what that meant. He stopped in front of her, right before she had to chance to touch Eiling and end it.

            “Being a soldier doesn’t mean you’re a murderer,” he said, looking desperately into her eyes. _You don’t have to do this._ He wondered if anyone ever told Oliver that. He wondered who was there when Oliver came back from the island, if anyone was able to say the words he needed to hear. Like Oliver did for Barry. “Don’t become one now,” he told her.

            And then she was shot, she fell. Barry’s heart dropped, and he fell to the ground next to her. This was his fault, he let this happen, he hadn’t been thinking clearly and he let his guard down.

            “I’m sorry,” he said, desperately, hopelessly.

            “Don’t be,” Bette said, her voice gasping. “I’m glad you stopped me.”

            “I’m gonna get you back to S.T.A.R. Labs,” he said, but it was too late, it was always too late. Her eyes fluttered shut and he choked on a sob. Another name to add to list of people he’d failed.

            Her skin began to glow and Barry couldn’t stop to mourn her.

            “We have a problem,” he said.

            “ _Is Bette okay?”_ Cisco asked.

            “No,” Barry replied, his voice heavy. "Eiling killed her." But he didn’t have time for that. “She’s gonna detonate.”

            “ _You have to get her away from the city,”_ Caitlin said.

            “There’s no time,” Barry said, eyes scanning around. “How fast would I have to go to run on water?”

            _“You’ll have to outrun the blast,”_ Cisco told him. _“Or you’ll die, too.”_

            Barry picked up Bette’s body, looked at her still face, and tried not to think about how she’d never get a burial. It was his fault, it was all his fault. He ran into the bay, holding her close to him and trying to keep the tears from falling just yet. There wasn’t time.

            He left her body in the ocean, the spray of the sea water stinging his face like needles. He could feel his heavy heart dragging him into the water, but he forced himself to keep going, to outrun the blast.

            He got back to the shore and fell to his knees, watching the explosion in the water. Her story wasn’t fair.

            He had to get home.

            But he watched General Eiling cover it up on the news, claiming nothing happened, Central City was safe. Like Bette was never there, like she didn’t matter.

            “He murdered Bette right in front of me,” Barry said, his voice low and angry, masking the hurt and the guilt. “And there’s nothing we can do to him?”

            “Powerful men have a way of avoiding consequences,” Wells replied, and Barry’s blood felt cold.

            “You gonna be okay?” Caitlin asked him, her voice soft and kind.

            Barry didn’t answer. “I have to get back to Starling,” he said, walking slowly out of the room before speeding out of the city as fast as he could.

            He just needed Oliver.

\---

            Eobard Thawne paced in his secret room, or lair, he’d thought about calling it to really solidify his role as the Flash’s villain counterpart. Barry Allen was not cooperating like he’d hoped. He was only getting closer to Oliver Queen.

            “Gideon,” he said stiffly. “Show me the future.”

            _“Certainly.”_

He closed his eyes momentarily, afraid of what he’d see. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the article’s headline- _The Flash vanishes in crisis._ Exactly what Eobard wanted to see. Barry Allen still disappears in a decade.

            But Eobard’s skin crawled when he saw the author. _Iris West-Thawne._

            This meant two things: that Iris didn’t marry who she was supposed to, and Eddie didn’t marry who he was supposed to.

            This might be a blip in history, a minor difference that no one may have even paid attention to. The Flash still vanishes, after all.

            But if Eddie Thawne didn’t marry the woman he was supposed to, then Eobard would never be born. He didn’t have long before history caught up to him.

            He had to find a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stayed tuned for more Oliver Queen next chapter.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking place Arrow 3.05

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Oliver Queen is a lost puppy without Barry.  
> Sorry this chapter is a little shorter. This episode had a lot of Felicity and her mom, which I mostly skipped.

             Oliver felt the wind and heard the crackle of electricity as Barry sped away, back to Central City. He sighed, staring at the door for a moment, trying to will Barry to come back. He wondered how long it would be before Barry decided he belonged in Central City, not Starling. Oliver didn’t want to think about it. _Well, it was nice while it lasted._

            But he couldn’t focus on that right now. He headed outside, heading towards the foundry through the crowds of people, all confused and afraid. He stopped when the televisions in a store window flickered on.

            _“We are Brother Eye,”_ a distorted voice announced. _“Judgment has been rendered against this city. A sentence has been carried out. An earthquake. A siege. This is what comes next. A new life you will live on your knees. And it will take nothing more than the push of a button.”_

As if Oliver didn’t have enough to deal with.

            _“We are in control now,”_ the voice continued. _“And this is all just the beginning. Let there be light.”_

            The electricity flickered back on, and Oliver looked around at the people who were confused and afraid. He wished Barry had stayed. He’d know what to say to ease these people’s minds. Oliver had no consolation to offer.

            Starling City had become a brighter place with Barry there. The Arrow was a vigilante, taking criminals down, feared. But the Flash was a hero. Barry saved cats from trees and caught ice cream cones that children had dropped. Oliver only came out at night, but Barry let himself be seen during the day. The atmosphere in Starling had changed, because Barry had changed it. Without Barry, the city darkened again.

            Oliver succeeded only in making the criminals afraid, but it was Barry who had given the citizens hope. Something to believe in. Starling City was beginning to love him, in a way that they had never and would never love the Arrow. Because it was Barry, and Oliver knew better than anyone that Barry made life warmer, brighter. It felt like the sun shined more often when Barry was around.

            And now the city was in danger, and all Starling had was the Arrow. They needed the Flash. And the sun was gone. Oliver felt like a consolation prize.

            When he got to the foundry, he was greeted by Felicity’s mother, who was apparently in town with no notice. Felicity looked stressed, which wasn’t going to be helpful, since this particular case seemed to be up her alley. They couldn’t afford all these distractions, not now. They left Felicity's mother and baby Sara upstairs as they went to figure this out. 

            They got downstairs and gathered around the computers, trying to see what they could find. Oliver felt Barry’s absence like a weight on his chest.

            “Where’s Barry?” Roy asked, as though he could read Oliver’s mind.

            Oliver just sighed. “He’s back in Central City.” He didn’t elaborate.

            “Well, that’s not great timing,” Diggle said stiffly. “They said the power outage was just the beginning.”

            “Then let’s find them before there’s a next time,” Oliver replied.

            Felicity typed at her computer, trying to find a way to track where this Brother Eye was located, and how they could stop them.

            That’s when the news of the panic started, and the fact that the police had dispatched riot squads, which would also serve to cause further chaos.

            Oliver had to go try to calm the crowds. “Suit up,” he instructed Roy and Diggle.

            But the real help here would have been Barry Allen. Oliver should have asked him to stay, he thought to himself. Barry had offered, it wouldn’t have been hard. Barry would have stayed to help if Oliver had asked. All he had to do was ask. The city was in crisis, and the Flash was gone.

            But Central City needed him, too, Oliver told himself. Maybe they needed him more. He wished that Barry fully belonged in Starling, that he didn’t have ties and obligations back in Central that could pull him away when Oliver needed him.

            And right then, Oliver really needed him.

            “ _Oliver, the riot is getting out of control,”_ Felicity say through the com. “ _You need to hurry up.”_

            _Barry would get there in time._

            Oliver and Roy got there as the chaos got worse, standing up on the roof and watching over the people. They shot tear gas into the crowd, but it was a temporary fix. “ _Where’s the Flash?”_ he heard a civilian call to him from the crowd. He had no answer. This crowd dispersed, but the panic was everywhere. He couldn’t calm the entire city.

            _“No, no, no, no,”_ Felicity said, her voice rising. _“This can’t be happening.”_

            “What is it?” Oliver prompted.

            _“The virus,”_ she replied, her voice strained. _“I can’t stop it.”_

“How do you know?” he asked.

            _“Because it’s mine. I wrote it five years ago,”_ she breathed.

            Oliver’s heart beat faster. They weren’t going to be able to stop this. They weren’t going to be able to save the city. They were going to fail. _He_ was going to fail.

            He wanted to call Barry and ask him to come home.

            Oliver and Roy got back to foundry, to see Felicity hunched over the desk. She swiveled around, eyes wide.

            “Before you say anything, just know I never imagined the virus being used for something like this,” she said quickly, her voice trembling.

            “It’s okay. Relax,” Oliver said, keeping his voice steady. “Start from the beginning.”

            And Felicity told them, how she was in a group in college who hacked systems and tried to create viruses and played activist online. They didn’t do anything serious, until one of them did. She described the virus she created, how it could give them full access to infected servers.

            “Why didn’t you tell us about this?” Oliver asked gently.

            “Do we even know a fraction of what happened the five years you were away?” Felicity replied.

            Oliver didn’t reply to that. She had a point, but he couldn’t focus on that. He just needed to fix this.

\---

            Laurel’s breath was quick, her heartbeat hard. She was acting district attorney in a crisis, and she had already made a mistake by calling in the riot squad. 

            Her father pulled her into his office, looking drained and older than she’d ever seen him.

            “I’m sorry,” she said, trying to keep the crack out of her voice.

            “Laurel, honey,” her father started with a sigh. “What’s gotten into you? You’re angry, you’re distant, you’re reckless. This isn’t you.”

            Laurel felt tears stinging her eyes. She remembered what Barry had said, and she felt sick. She knew she had to tell him. This was possibly the worst possible time to do it, but she couldn’t keep putting it off. “It’s Sara,” she said, and her voice broke. She could barely get her sister’s name out.

            Quentin Lance took a step back, like he’d been punched in the chest. “No,” he said softly. But he knew what that meant.

            “I’m sorry,” Laurel breathed.

            Quentin brought his hand up to his face. He couldn’t breathe for a few moments, but then he just wrapped his arms around his daughter, hugging her tightly to him. The city’s crisis didn’t seem nearly as scary anymore.

\---

            Oliver walked into Verdant, looking for his sister, only to see her trying to open the door down the the Arrow Cave. He stopped for a moment. Took a breath. He had told her no more secrets.

            “Speedy,” he called.

            She turned. Smiled. “What are you doing here?”

            “Well, a super hacker is trying to take over the city. I was worried about you,” Oliver said. His voice shook a little. He wished he could talk to Barry about this. “So, what are you trying to do?”

            “I can never get this door open,” Thea said, frustrated. “I mean, I own the place, I should be able to.”

            Oliver paused. “Thea, do you remember how I said I’d tell you anything you wanted to know?”

            “I remember you saying that and then not following up on it,” she replied, with a teasing smile.

            He stopped. This wasn’t a good time, he told himself. _You’re a coward._ “After this is all over, we should talk. Really talk.”

            Thea paused and narrowed her eyes, studying Oliver’s face. “Okay,” she said, though she sounded uncertain.

            Oliver nodded stiffly. Since she’d shown him her new loft and told him about Merlyn’s money, he felt more and more like he needed to tell her the truth. Maybe it would deter her from accepting Merlyn’s blood money, at the very least. He didn’t like the idea of her accepting being Malcolm’s daughter. It made his stomach turn. 

\---

            Felicity and Roy and Oliver did everything they could, but everything they did led nowhere. They tracked down the one person Felicity suspected, and he wasn't behind it. They couldn’t get any other names, any other suspects. And Oliver pressed and snapped at Felicity until she told him that her college boyfriend couldn’t have done this because he had killed himself.

            Barry would have been more tactful, more gentle. Oliver felt his chest tighten with guilt at the look in Felicity's eyes.

            “Felicity,” he started.

            “I just really need to be alone right now,” she said, her voice trembling and tears streaming down her face as she walked quickly out of the room.

            “We could really use Barry right about now,” Roy sighed, watching Felicity leave.

            Oliver felt his hand twitch, desperate to call Barry and ask him to come back. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t drag Barry back here to this.

            And then when Felicity did come back, he tried, he tried to do the kind thing, the thing that Barry would have done. He told her to go back and work things out with her mother, that they would be okay for an hour without her. And she and her mother got taken. And it was Oliver who sent Felicity back there.

            She managed to sent them a signal as to where they were, and Oliver was inside with guns pointed at him that would shoot once he moved. _Super-speed would helpful right about now,_ he thought to himself.

            They all got out, barely, but the city still felt unsafe. The Flash’s absence had been noticed, even by those who still believed he was a hoax. Oliver figured that it would be uneasy for a while. It might feel better once Barry got back.

            After he made sure Felicity and her mother were safe, Oliver went back to the foundry by himself. He didn’t want to go back to the apartment. Not yet, he wasn’t ready to be there alone. It might be worse than being in the foundry alone. 

            He looked around at the large room. It felt emptier than it used to.

            He took his shirt off to go a few rounds on the salmon ladder. He hoped it would take his mind off of everything.

            But as his muscles tensed and pulled himself up, his thoughts didn’t go away.

            All he could think of was how many times he had failed this city and its people.

            The man he was two years ago would have put an arrow in him at this point.

            “You weren’t at the apartment,” he heard behind him.

            Oliver immediately dropped down, turning. And there was Barry, giving him a small, sad smile. “Barry,” he breathed. “You’re back.”

            Barry took a few steps toward him. “Yeah, the case was closed,” he said, and Oliver heard the shake in his voice. “And I didn’t really want to stay there longer than I had to.”

            Oliver felt a lump in his throat, hearing that. Barry didn’t want to stay away. Oliver calmed, with a wave of relief; he didn’t even realize how afraid he was that Barry would want to stay back in Central City. He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself. “You missed quite the case up here,” he said. “Hackers tried to take over the city.”

            Barry raised his eyebrows. “Good thing we have Felicity on our side,” he noted.

            “No kidding,” Oliver replied. He felt a tension in the air, but he didn’t know what to make of it. “So how did the case go there?”

            Barry sighed and shook his head. “The meta-human was this woman, and when she touched something, it would blow up. Like a bomb. She had shrapnel fused into her DNA, essentially.” He swallowed, and shoved his hands into his pockets. “She didn’t make it.”

            “Do you want to tell me what happened?” Oliver asked gently, pulling his shirt back on and sitting down in one of the chairs.

            Barry sighed and followed his lead, sitting right next to him. “I don’t know, Ollie. Sometimes I wonder if I’m really cut out for all this.”

            “What do you mean?” Oliver replied, leaning his arm on the table so he could angle himself toward Barry.

            “I couldn’t save her,” he replied, running his fingers through his hair. “I got these amazing powers, and she got a power that she had to be afraid of. I mean, why me? She was a good person.”

            “Barry…” Oliver said softly, furrowing his brow.

            Barry just shook his head. “It’s not fair, Oliver. She didn’t deserve that.”

            Oliver didn’t say anything. He didn’t know if there was anything he could say. He just looked Barry, watching him stare at the floor. He didn’t like seeing Barry like this, and it was happening altogether too often.

            “She got shot right in front of me,” Barry said quietly. “I should’ve stopped it. I wasn’t paying attention.”

            “It’s not your fault, Barry,” Oliver replied gently.

            Barry shook his head. “If it had been you, Oliver... Would you blame yourself for it?”

            Oliver ducked his head and stared at the floor. He didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer, really.

            “That’s what I thought,” Barry said, his voice soft.

            Oliver stood up, taking Barry’s hand and pulling him up, too. He briefly rested a hand on Barry’s cheek, taking a breath. “Come on, Barry. Let’s go home.”

            Barry nodded, turning his face towards Oliver’s touch. Oliver squeezed Barry’s hand once before turning and heading out of the foundry, Barry following close behind.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking place Arrow 3.07

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This episode of Arrow might be one of my favorites.  
> But this week on Characters That Deserved Better: Roy Harper, everyone.

            Barry fell hard on the mat, groaning. “Well, that was a good one,” he panted as he pulled himself back up. Laurel really seemed to be getting good at the trick of using her opponent’s size and weight against them, if all his bruises indicated anything.

            “You told me not to hold back,” Laurel replied, helping him up.

            “And you didn’t,” Barry said with a laugh. They’d been sparring for an hour now as the rest of the team went after a drug cartel. Barry had chosen to sit it out when Laurel had asked. “Should we take a break?”

            Laurel grinned. “I mean, if you really need one,” she teased.

            Barry laughed and grabbed his water. “Hey, you’ve already hurt my pride, I can admit when I need to cool off.” He sighed and sat down. “I really don’t know how much help I am, since you keep winning.”

            Laurel chuckled and sat down next to him. “Well, I’ve been taking classes, too. Besides, you don’t need to be good at fighting when you have super-speed.”

            “Yeah, well, until he just gets caught and knocked down,” Felicity quipped from across the room.

            “Don’t you have to focus on helping the team?” Barry shot back with a smile.

            “I can multi-task,” she replied as she typed, occasionally telling the team something through the com.

            “Hey, thanks for talking to Oliver for me,” Laurel said, nudging Barry with her elbow.

            “It was nothing,” Barry replied, ducking his head. “It didn’t even work anyway; he’s still not training you.”

            “But he’s not completely against the idea anymore. Regardless, I appreciate it,” she said. She grabbed Sara’s jacket off the table and pulled it on. Maybe she really could follow in Sara’s footsteps and honor her memory. “Oh, I told my dad.”

            Barry nodded. “He has been acting different at work. How did it go?”

            “It was hard, but I’m glad I did it,” Laurel said softly.

            “Good,” Barry replied gently, giving her a quick hug. He was glad that Laurel seemed less angry, if not any less sad.

            Laurel swallowed, trying not to cry. She took a breath, trying to distract herself. “You know what I could really go for?” she said slyly. “Some ice cream.”

            Barry made a show of sighing loudly before zipping out of the room and returning with two ice cream cones. “Happy?”

            “I’ll never get tired of that trick,” Laurel said, smiling and taking her ice cream.

            “What, none for me?” Felicity said, shooting Barry a glare.

            Barry ran and got another one, handing it to her. “I feel so used,” he said with a joking grin.

            “So, after we finish these, should we get back to sparring?” Laurel asked.

            Barry sighed and shook his head. “I bring you ice cream, and you still want to beat me up. Unbelievable.”

            The rest of the team came back in, having successfully delivered the drug dealers to the police. Barry’s gaze caught on Oliver as he walked in, putting his bow down gently.

            “Well, things have to go well every once in a while,” Diggle said, crossing his arms and leaning against a table.

            Oliver laughed. “Let’s try not to question it.”

            Barry smiled. It was always a good day when Oliver was able to laugh. He noticed how Oliver’s eyes lit up, how a dimple formed on his left cheek. Oliver didn’t smile nearly enough, Barry thought.

            “You’re staring,” Laurel told him under her breath with a coy grin.

            “What?” Barry said, laughing nervously and looking away. He rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. Okay, so maybe he was staring. But he didn’t get to see Oliver smile very often, even though he lived with the guy.

            Roy walked over to them, looking a lot more grim than the rest of the team. Barry frowned, seeing how nervous Roy looked. “Hey, Barry, could I talk to you?” Roy said, his voice low. His eyes flickered around the room nervously.

            “Sure, Roy,” Barry said kindly. Roy led Barry out on the room and into the alley behind the foundry.

            “You can do a blood test, right?” Roy asked, brow furrowed.

            “Yeah, I know how to,” Barry said. “Roy, what is this about?”

            “I need you to test my blood for Mirakuru,” he said carefully, shooting a glance over his shoulder like he was worried the rest of the team would hear.

            “Mirakuru?” Barry asked. He’d heard about what happened, but he’d thought that it was all over. “What’s going on?”

            Roy sighed, shifting his weight from leg to leg. “I’ve been having these dreams. Where I’m still under the effect of the Mirakuru, and I… I do things, without realizing it.”

            “What kind of things?” Barry asked, keeping his voice quiet.

            Roy took a deep breath and looked Barry in the eyes. Barry was taken aback by how afraid he looked. “I think I killed Sara," he confessed. 

            “Roy, you couldn’t have done that. You know that, right?” Barry said, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

            Roy shook his head. “In the dreams, I’m killing Sara. I’m worried that it’s not a dream.”

            “You’re worried it’s a memory,” Barry finished for him. Barry hadn't been there when Roy was under the Mirakuru, but he couldn't imagine Roy being capable of that. His heart lurched with sympathy for the kid. 

            Roy just nodded. “You won’t tell the rest of the team, right?”

            “Of course not,” Barry replied, his voice gentle. “We can do the blood test, but I think they’re just dreams. We can check to make sure. Okay?”

            Roy nodded, still looking uneasy. “Okay,” he said and his voice shook a little. “How fast can you do the test?”

            “Uh, pretty fast,” Barry replied, raising an eyebrow.

            “Right, forgot who I was talking to,” Roy muttered, the hint of a smile on his face.

            Barry sped to his office at the SCPD, grabbing a blood kit, and running back to the alleyway. They stayed outside until the results came back.

            “You’re good,” Barry said. “No Mirakuru. Do you feel better?”

            Roy breathed a sigh of relief and nodded.

            “I do think you should talk to Oliver about this, though,” Barry said. “If these dreams are distracting you and keeping you from sleeping, he should know. For now, maybe you should just take it easy for a while. Focus on your job at the club with Thea.”

            “You’re probably right,” Roy said softly, with a weak smile. “Thanks, Barry.”

            Barry patted Roy on the shoulder, and they walked back into the foundry together.

\---

            Back at the apartment, Oliver was lying on the couch, half asleep, when Barry sped in carrying a stack of pizzas. He dropped them on the coffee table and sat cross-legged on the floor.

            Oliver shot Barry a tired smile. “You know, last time we tried to do this, you got called in to Central City.”

            “Well, that probably won’t happen this time,” Barry replied, running to get two plates and then grabbing four pieces of pizza for himself.

            Oliver took the other plate and grabbed his own slice. “I maintain that your taste in pizza is ridiculous.”

            “Did you even try it last time?” Barry replied, raising an eyebrow.

            “If you’ll recall, I had to go work, too,” Oliver said, leaning up onto his elbows.

            “Here’s hoping both the cities can survive the night without us,” Barry replied with a warm smile.

            “This pizza is not quite as bad as I thought it would be.”

            “I told you.”

            “It’s still weird, though.”

            Barry sighed, rolling his eyes. “You’re picky.”

            Oliver just smiled, watching Barry out of the corner of his eye. It had been fairly calm recently, which just made Oliver feel like something bad was going to happen soon. The calm before the storm, essentially. Everything was going so well. The team had gotten into a good rhythm. Thea was doing well at the club. Even Laurel seemed to be doing better. Oliver was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

            But having Barry here, it made him almost willing to just let himself relax. Almost. He still couldn’t help but feel like he should be getting ready for whatever was coming.

            “Hey, Barry?” Oliver said.

            “Hm?” Barry replied, looking up.

            “Why did you move to Starling City?” Oliver asked. He hadn’t pressed the issue before, but maybe Barry felt more comfortable now.

            Barry chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck and cocking his head to the side. “There were several factors.”

            “Like what?” Oliver said, trying to keep his voice casual.

            Barry sighed. “Well, I, uh, I needed to get away from Central. It’s full of ghosts, y’know? Everywhere I turned, there were reminders of what happened with my parents, of all the years of doubt and ridicule. It just wasn’t home anymore. Plus, there was Iris… And you.”

            _One thing at a time, Oliver._ “What about Iris?”

            “I’ve been in love with her for years, and when I woke up, she was suddenly in this committed relationship, with a guy she works really well with. It hurt too much to see them together. And I figured that… I don’t know, if I was away, it’d be easier to get over her.” Barry furrowed his brow, looking pained.

            “Oh,” Oliver said. _Barry’s in love with Iris. Of course he is._ “And has it been? Easier to get over her?”

            Barry paused, considering it. “I’m getting there, I think.”

            Oliver felt himself relax a little. “And what about me?”

            “Right, uh,” Barry started. _Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned him in the reasons._ He ran his hands through his hair nervously. “I, um, I kind of figured that if I was going to try to be, you know, a hero, that I should learn from someone who already is one.”

            Oliver felt warm as he looked at Barry stumbling over his words. “And how’s that going for you?”

            Barry glanced up and met Oliver’s gaze, his lips quirked up in a slight smile. “Pretty well.”

\---

            Barry sat at his desk at the SCPD, flipping through the files he still had to look at, when Captain Lance came into the lab.

            “Hey, kid, we got a case we need you on,” he said gruffly. Barry noticed how much the captain smiled less. “Shocker, it’s another archer. Apparently, we can’t get enough bows and arrows in this city.”

            Barry raised an eyebrow. “Another archer?”

            “Yeah, come on, you’re wanted at the crime scene,” Lance said, briskly leaving the room.

            Barry followed to the crime scene, where his heart almost stopped for a minute when he saw a man in a green hood lying on the ground. It only took a few more steps forward to realize it wasn’t Oliver.

            “Isaac Stanzler,” Captain Lance said. “He was being transported to Iron Heights when he got shot.”

            Barry got closer, narrowing his eyes. “He wasn’t killed here,” he noted. “And he wasn’t killed in these clothes. He was dumped here, deliberately dressed like the Arrow.”

            Lance nodded, pulling his phone out and walking a few steps away. Barry cocked his head to try to hear what he was saying. He couldn’t quite make it out, but it did sound like Lance was talking to the Arrow.

            Well, it meant Barry didn’t have to try to get away to call Oliver himself in any case. He paused a moment, leaning down and picking up the arrow the man was shot with, placed gently beside the body. It was red, maybe pink, and shaped like a heart. “Captain Lance? This is really interesting. Whoever did this made the arrow less efficient just to prove a point, look.”

            “They’re trying to get the Arrow’s attention, that’s for sure,” Lance commented.

            “Looks like they got it,” Barry muttered, nodding his head towards the Arrow slipping down an alley. He turned back and bagged the arrow to bring back to the forensics lab with him.

            Of course, he made a stop at the foundry first.

            “Oliver, I got something,” he called as he walked in.

            Oliver walked over to him, looking at him expectantly.

            Barry pulled out the bag, handing it to Oliver. “The arrow used to kill the man dressed as you.”

            Diggle leaned over and raised his eyebrows. “Last time I saw a spade that lethal, it cut up a pretty good royal flush I was holding.”

            “Actually, I don’t think it’s a spade,” Barry interjected quickly. “I think it’s meant to be a heart. The fact that it’s red can’t be an accident.”

            “Well, that’s just more confusing,” Oliver mumbled to himself, bringing the arrow over to the desk to examine it. He glanced around the room. “Where’s Felicity tonight?”

            “Busy, apparently,” Barry replied, gesturing towards the news on one of the computer screens. Oliver put the arrow down, making his way over to watch. Ray Palmer was speaking live on the news, and Felicity was off to the side. Barry studied Oliver’s face for signs of jealousy.

            Barry glanced briefly at Diggle, and noticed he was doing the same. Barry’s chest tightened; he guessed it was common knowledge that Oliver had feelings for Felicity. But why did that bother him so much?

            Ray Palmer was announcing the rebranding of Queens Consolidated to make it Palmer Technologies when Oliver began walking back to the table. Barry exchanged a glance with Diggle.

            Oliver hammered at the tip of the arrow with a little too much vigor before it broke apart to reveal a slip of paper.

            “What’s that?” Barry asked, looking over in interest.

            “An address,” Oliver said before snapping his head up and pointing an accusatory finger at Barry. “Don’t just go running there.”

            Barry raised his hands up in surrender. “I wasn’t gonna do anything.”

            “Good. We go there together,” Oliver said.

            Barry considered this for a moment. If he ran both of them there, it would save time, and it was still going there together like Oliver said. So he changed into his suit, waited for Oliver and Diggle to do the same, and ran them to the address.

            He skidded to a halt outside the door. Diggle fell against the hallway wall, and Oliver fell against Barry.

            “Barry, what the hell,” Diggle said, panting. “Never do that again.”

            “Sorry, Dig,” Barry said with a small grin.

            Oliver stabilized himself by holding on to Barry’s shoulder for a moment. “What did I say about warning me?” He didn’t wait for Barry to answer before going to the door, Diggle and Barry falling into formation behind him.

            Oliver kicked down the door, and Barry immediately sped through the apartment to check if anyone was there. He stopped in his tracks. “Uh, it’s all clear, but you have to come see this,” Barry called back warily.

            Oliver entered the room slowly, stopping next to Barry.

            The room was plastered with articles about the Arrow, and it was full of candles and flowers like a shrine. It was also full of arrows and hearts. _Not exactly subtle_ , Barry thought to himself. 

            “It’s not a copycat, it’s a fan,” Diggle said uneasily.

            “I guess that explains the heart arrow at least,” Barry added.

            A phone began to ring from the table. Barry and Diggle exchanged a look as Oliver went to answer it.

            “ _It’s you,”_ a woman’s breathy voice came through the speaker. _“I can’t believe it’s really you.”_

            _Great, a crazy stalker villain who’s in love with Oliver_ , Barry thought. Just what they needed.

            “ _I see the way you take care of your city. It makes me wonder, who takes care of you?”_ she continued. _“I want to help you. Fight with you. Kill for you.”_

            The phone beeped and a photo of a man wearing a bomb came through.

            _“I thought we could punish this one together.”_

            “I’m gonna find you,” Oliver replied, in his deep Arrow voice.

            _“Well, that’s the idea,_ ” the woman purred back.

            Barry didn’t like the sound of that.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second half of Arrow 3.07

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Barry kind of needs to chill.

            Back at the foundry, Felicity had found who the man in the picture was. A local mob boss, wanted for a whole list of crimes. She was still working on getting a location from the details in the picture, as well as cracking the encryption on the cell phone that the woman had left in the apartment.

            “We don’t have a lot of time,” Oliver said, pacing. This case was putting him on edge. Barry leaned against a table, watching him. “I need all of your focus on finding this guy.”

            “Which you have, except that I need tonight off,” Felicity said quickly, looking over at him nervously. “Ray Palmer invited me to dinner."

            “Oh,” Oliver replied. Barry’s cheeks felt hot at the twinge of jealousy in Oliver’s tone.

            “That okay?” Felicity asked.

            “Do what you want,” Oliver replied calmly. He left the foundry without a word. Barry looked at the door briefly before glancing at Felicity, who looked anxious.

            “It’s fine, Felicity, you deserve a night off every once in a while,” Barry assured her, smiling.

            “Thanks,” she said, smiling back before turning back to the computer.

            Barry’s smile dropped, irritated, and he sighed and walked towards where Oliver left. He found Oliver walking away slowly outside. Barry caught up to him easily and shot him a look.

            “You’re _incredibly_ transparent,” he said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his tone.

            Oliver glanced up, frowning. “Excuse me?” he replied, a little taken aback. 

            Barry sighed, exasperated. “I mean that the reason Felicity and I never went out when I first came to Starling City before my coma was because she was in love with you, and that _clearly_ hasn’t changed. Obviously, you have feelings for her, but Ollie, you could have asked her to be with you a thousand times over at this point, so you do _not_ have the right to mope when she decides to see someone else. She’s moving on, maybe you should think about doing the same.” Barry tone got sharper as he went on. He noticed that his hands were shaking so much, they were practically vibrating.

            Oliver turned to respond, seeing the bolt of lightning in Barry’s eyes. Barry sped off back into the foundry before Oliver could get a word out. Oliver just sighed, alone in the alleyway, crossing his arms.  _What got into him?_

            “Barry,” Felicity said in surprise when he came back in. “Good, I have something.”

            “Oh, yeah?” Barry said, walking over to see the computer.

            “The user registered to the encrypted SIM card,” she started. “Her name is Carrie Cutter, former SCPD. The first woman swat member.”

            “Carrie Cutter, that name sounds familiar,” Barry replied, remembering the gossip floating around the precinct. “I think I’ve heard people mention her at the SCPD. Not in a good way.”

            “I’m not surprised, check this out,” Felicity said, pulling up photos of various crime scenes that the Arrow was involved in. She was in all of them. “She’s been stalking Oliver for a while.”

            “Any ideas where she’s keeping the man?”

            Felicity nodded. “There’s a bag of fertilizer in the corner of the photo, I’m thinking maybe a greenhouse. And this is the address to the one closest to her apartment.”

            “Thanks,” Barry said, turning away.

            “Wait, you’re just going alone?” Felicity said, swiveling around in her chair.

            “Well, do you see the rest of the team here?” Barry said, gesturing to the empty room. “If Oliver wants to sulk, that’s fine, but I’m going.” At least Roy and Diggle had valid reasons to be absent. Oliver didn’t.

            With that, Barry sped to the greenhouse, searching for the man in the picture. He looked through the place, but he wasn’t having any luck. And then he heard the sound of an arrow being pulled on him.

            He spun around, and Carrie Cutter was aiming an arrow at his chest. “You’re not who I was expecting, Flash,” she said, her voice hard.

            “Well, the Arrow is busy not being interested in you, so I came instead,” Barry retorted. He wasn’t finding this particular case the least bit amusing.

            She let the arrow go, but Barry caught it easily. “Too slow,” he said through gritted teeth.

            She glared at him. “I’m not interested in playing games with you,” she replied. “But hey, maybe the Arrow just needs a little push.”

            She let three arrows fly at Barry, but he caught each one dropping them to the ground. “Where’s the hostage, Carrie?”

            “He’s a gift for the _Arrow_ , not for you,” she hissed, sending another arrow at him.

            He sighed as he caught it. “You’d you think you’d get the idea that I’m too fast for your arrows,” he commented, cocking his head to the side, arrogance laced into his tone.

            He ran towards her, lightning in his veins, throwing her bow and quiver to the side and pinning her against the wall before she even knew what was happening. “Where is he, Carrie?” he said, his voice low, but kind, trying a different approach.

            She drew her elbow up and hit him in the nose, ducking out of his grasp and kicking his legs out from underneath him. She managed to kick him twice, once in the ribs and once in the face, before he jumped up and twisted her arm behind her, pushing her against the wall again.

            “Carrie, the Arrow isn’t coming,” he said, keeping his voice calm and soothing. “Just tell me where the hostage is.”

            She didn’t say anything, but her eyes flickered towards a shed right outside the greenhouse. Barry released her and ran there. He quickly took the vest off the man, triggering it to explode, and sped him outside before it blew.

            “Thanks,” the mob boss panted, but before he could get the word out, he was standing in the police station, holding a folder of incriminating evidence against him.

            Barry returned to the foundry, back in his street clothes, walking in calmly. He had a split lip and a small bruise under his right eye, but was otherwise unscathed. Oliver, Roy, and Diggle were there waiting for him, Felicity having already left for her dinner

            Oliver stormed over to him when he got in the room. His gaze flickered to Barry’s bloody lip, and his throat tightened. “Why the _hell_ would you go after her by yourself, Barry?” he yelled, eyes gleaming.

            Barry didn’t let himself react, keeping his expression neutral. He just shrugged, walking past Oliver and gently putting his messenger bag down. “You were busy,” he said, his voice icy.

            “What were you thinking?” Oliver demanded, his jaw clenched, as he turned and followed Barry. _I thought we talked about this._

            Barry met his gaze easily. “I was thinking that you were distracted. Your mind wasn’t in it today.” _You’re just so frustrating._

            Oliver glared at him, made more furious by Barry’s apparent calm. They just stood there for a few moments, the whole room tense, before Oliver broke and spun around, grabbing his bow and heading to the door.

            “Where are you going?” Diggle called after him.

            “The psychiatrist that Cutter was seeing,” Oliver responded gruffly over his shoulder.

            There was a heavy silence in the room for a few moments and Diggle shot Barry an aggravated look. Diggle was getting exasperated with Barry and Oliver and all their clashing. They needed to get it together.

            “What?” Barry asked innocently at Diggle’s hard stare, any hint of his coldness gone with Oliver.

            “What’s going on with you, man? I’ve never seen you talk to Oliver like that,” Diggle asked, arms crossed.

            “I’m out of sympathy for Oliver and his pining for Felicity,” Barry replied with a shrug, keeping his voice even. _I know I’m being irrational. I don’t know what’s wrong with me._ “He’s losing focus.”

            Diggle raised his eyebrows. “He’s losing focus? That’s the complaint you’re sticking with?”

            Barry dropped his gaze, staring at the floor for a moment, trying to sort through the waves of emotions. “I’m just getting tired of it,” he replied with a sigh, rubbing his forehead. “Oliver is always getting on our cases if any of us get distracted, but Felicity goes on one maybe-date with Ray, and Oliver is suddenly a wreck. It’s hypocritical.”

            “Is that really what’s bothering you?” Diggle pressed.

            Barry glanced over at Roy, hoping for backup, but Roy just shrugged helplessly, not wanting to get involved in the conflict.

            “I think you might want to consider what your real problem with Oliver is, Barry,” Diggle said, a firm warning in his voice. “Before you do something stupid again.”

            Barry just crossed his arms over his chest, feeling like a scolded child. His real problem with Oliver. Where could he even start there?

\---

            There was another crime scene to go to, and Barry happily left the foundry, getting away from Roy’s discomfort and Diggle’s judgment. The man Carrie killed was sitting in a chair, eyes glassy, with the arrow sticking out of his neck. It looked like it was a quick death, at least.

            Barry looked around the scene, at the wound, at the man’s position. He analyzed the various details, his mind moving as fast as he can run. The computer screen, the modem, even the keyboard was shattered. Broken enough that Barry wasn't sure Felicity could manage to get any information off of it.  

            Barry glanced at Captain Lance, his heart beating fast.

            Lance was already on the phone with the Arrow. “Your new girlfriend just put another heart-shaped arrow in the neck of one of her old CI’s.”

            He rattled off information about the victim into the phone, about how he was a computer expert and how he had met Cutter. What they really needed to know is what he was helping Cutter with.

            Barry bagged the evidence as fast as he could, quickly telling the Captain he would bring it all back to the station himself. And then he ran back to the lab. When he got there, he almost called Oliver. 

\---

            Oliver sighed after getting off the phone with Lance. _Whatever Carrie Cutter’s planning next, you’re not gonna like it,_ he’d told Oliver.

            Oliver clenched his teeth and gripped his bow. “We need Barry and Felicity here.”

            Diggle raised his eyebrows. “Felicity is still at dinner, and I’m not sure how you’re planning on dragging Barry back here.”

            Oliver shot him a glare. “I don’t care, we need them here,” he repeated, making a move to leave the foundry.

            “Oliver, you can’t go out into the field like this,” Diggle said, insistent. “Your head isn’t on straight right now.”

            “I’ve got it handled,” Oliver replied sharply. It wasn’t his fault that Felicity wasn’t prioritizing the team or that Barry was being stubborn and difficult.

            “Doesn’t look that way to me,” Diggle said simply.

            “What do you want me to say?” Oliver said, his voice rising. “Yes, it bothers me that Felicity is moving on with her life, but we both made that decision. I wasn’t expecting her to wait around forever. And no, I have no idea what’s going on with Barry. He’s been difficult for this whole case, but what am I supposed to do? He doesn’t listen to me.”

            “Sometimes, Oliver, I swear-” Diggle started, but he stopped himself. “You live with the guy, how can you not know what’s going on with him?”

            Oliver just shook his head and started heading out the door.

            “Where are you going?” Diggle called after him.

            “The last crime scene,” Oliver replied.

            “You know, we already have a forensics guy,” Diggle said pointedly.

            “Yeah, you can let me know if he ever shows up,” Oliver said sharply before walking out.

\---

            _Give her the connection she craves._ That’s what the psychiatrist told Oliver. Carrie Cutter had an attachment disorder. She couldn’t form real, lasting relationships, so instead, she fixated on the Arrow. _Honesty, sincerity. If you lie to her, she’ll know._

            Oliver was out of his depth with this one. _You could use a little therapy yourself,_ the psychiatrist had added. Oliver decided not to dwell on that comment.

            Felicity had managed to find what Cutter was looking at on that smashed computer. A map of the city, with Verdant specifically marked.

            He drove his bike back toward Verdant, no idea what his plan was, no idea what he could do. He wasn’t good at reasoning with unstable criminals, or calming them down. Barry was the one who could do that, who could muster up sincerity and kindness and talk a criminal off the ledge.

            Oliver had more trouble with sincerity. _I hope Barry shows up_ , he thought to himself.

            He called Carrie when he got a block away from Verdant, and he felt nauseous when she answered and he could hear the music in the background.

            “You want to meet? Fine, I will meet you anywhere but that club,” Oliver said, teeth gritted.

            “ _Are you asking me out?”_ came Carrie’s coy response.

            “Where do you want to meet, Carrie?” Oliver asked, shutting his eyes and suppressing an exasperated sigh.

            He rode there quickly, wanting this case to be over, this criminal to be behind bars. He got to the street where she told him to go, and he knew why she’d fixated on her. When Slade’s Mirakuru army was attacking, he had saved her, on this corner.

            Of course. It had to be his fault somehow. It always had to be.

            “You’re not well,” he told her.

            “Don’t ever say that to me,” she replied, walking toward him.

            He didn’t know how to do this. He didn’t know what to say to her. She was staring at him, with an obsessive, piercing look. Oliver had trouble meeting her eyes.

            “I’m not the man you think I am,” he said, his voice deep.

            “You saved me,” she replied, her eyes gleaming, desperate. She reached up to touch his face. “You’re a _hero_.”

            He grabbed her wrist and pushed it away, ignoring her wounded look. “I understand that you’re hurting,” he said. “I know what it’s like to want someone, but not be able to be with them. How you wish things could be different, but they can’t.” He paused, inhaling sharply. The words were harder to say than he thought. “I can’t be with you. I can’t be with anyone. I have to be alone.”

            Barry stood just out of view, listening intently. Diggle had sent him the address, told him to go as backup for Oliver. Barry’s heart dropped listening to Oliver’s words. _This is how he feels about Felicity._ Barry’s chest hurt at the thought. _How you wish things could be different, but they can’t._ Barry felt so hopeless hearing Oliver say that he had to be alone. It hurt to hear that Oliver truly felt that way. He wanted to tell himself that Oliver was just trying to talk Carrie down, but he heard the sincerity in Oliver’s tone, the pain. He was telling the truth.

            “No, you don’t,” Carrie replied. “You’re a liar.” Her voice was full of anger and Barry stiffened, pushing his emotions aside, ready to move.

            She shot an arrow at Oliver, and Barry sped in between them, pulling the arrow out of the air and throwing it to the ground.

            Without pausing, Oliver shot an arrow at Carrie’s bow, knocking it out of her hands. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, warning. _Barry showed up._

            “You already have,” Carried replied, her voice shaking. She lunged at Oliver, swinging her arm at him.

            He grabbed her arm before she managed to hit him, twisting it away. She spun out of his grasp, kicking him first in the chest, then in the head, knocking him down to one knee.

            Barry ran over, pulling her quiver off her shoulder and pushing her against a wall. She managed to slam her fist into Barry’s cheek before Barry swiped a pair of handcuffs from the nearest cop, and cuffed her hands behind her back.

            She kicked Barry once in the shin before he was able to speed her over to the back of the cop car. He paused for a moment, seeing the bewildered look on the cop’s face. “That’s Carrie Cutter, she’s wanted for murder,” Barry told him. “You’re gonna want to take her straight to the police station.” Then he sped back over to Oliver.

            Oliver didn’t make eye contact as Barry skidded to stop in front of him. “I had that handled,” he said, his voice flat.

            “I know you did, Ollie,” Barry replied, just sounding tired and maybe a little sad. There was no fight left in him.  _I can't be with anyone. I have to be alone._ The echo of the words still stung.

\---

            Oliver sat in the foundry, feeling like his lungs were full of lead. Felicity had gone back to Palmer Tech, and Barry had already run home.

            “Lyla’s making a late dinner, if you want to join,” Diggle said with a kind smile.

            Oliver shook his head. “No, thank you,” he said quietly, returning the smile as best he could. “I should get home soon.”

            Diggle sighed. “You’re going to have to talk to him, you know. Barry.”

            “I know,” Oliver replied.

            “So don’t just mope around here all night,” Diggle said, patting Oliver on the shoulder before walking out.

            Oliver waited for a few more minutes, not quite ready to leave. He considered sleeping in the foundry, but he thought of how Barry had said “please” the first time he asked him to crash on the couch. Like it would hurt Barry if Oliver slept another night alone in the foundry.

            He pulled himself up, forcing himself to the door. He rode his motorcycle five miles under the speed limit for the first time in his life.

            When he did finally get home, Barry was sitting on the couch with a cup of tea. He looked startled when Oliver walked in.

            “Sorry,” he said quietly. Barry hadn’t really been expecting Oliver to come back that night. He didn’t want to face him. He knew he’d been unfair. “I’ll just…” He got up quickly and walked toward his room, head ducked.

            Oliver clenched his teeth for a moment, and then stepped forward and grabbed Barry’s arm. “Barry, wait.”

            Barry stiffened in Oliver’s grasp. _Please, don’t make me talk about this._

            He turned, meeting Oliver’s gaze. Oliver’s eyes were searching, confused. They were angry and hurt. Barry’s heart clenched, wanting desperately to look away from those blue eyes.

            He knew what his problem with Oliver was. He knew why he was so angry, so bitter, why he was being so reckless, so sharp. He couldn’t hide from it any more, he couldn’t deny it, not when Oliver was looking at him like that. Not when Oliver’s strong, warm hands were wrapped around his arm.

            “What’s going on with you?” Oliver asked, softly. He sounded tired, hurt.

            _Don’t make me say it._ “I’m sorry, Oliver,” Barry replied. His throat felt tight, like he could barely speak. “I just… I’m really sorry.”

            Oliver drew his eyebrows together, studying Barry’s face. “Are you okay?” he asked. He sounded so genuinely concerned that Barry wanted to cry. “What’s wrong?”

            Barry just shook his head. “I’m fine, Ollie,” he said, but he could hear his voice. He didn’t sound even a little convincing. “I just… don’t want to talk about it.”

            He pulled his arm away slowly, and Oliver didn’t make him stay. He walked back to his room, closing the door gently. He pressed his hand against the closed door, leaned his forehead into it. The crushing realization finally hit him, and a few quiet tears began to fall.

            He loved Oliver. He loved him so much it hurt. _How you wish things could be different, but they can’t._

            Barry had left Central City to get away from one painful, unrequited love, only to fall right into another. But how could he not, with Oliver’s steady presence and his kind eyes? How could he not have fallen for Oliver Queen? It was inevitable. Barry’s shoulders felt weighed down. Maybe now he’d just run to Coast City, start over there like he had in Starling, to try to get over Oliver.

            It was the only thing Barry was good at, anyway, wasn’t it? Running away.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first half of The Flash 1.08, "Flash vs. Arrow."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, finals week is almost over, but I have one last paper to procrastinate, so here, have a chapter.

            Maybe it would’ve been easier if Barry had just quit the team. He had stopped being argumentative and difficult, but things hadn’t gone back to normal since they caught Carrie Cutter. Oliver was getting frustrated- and maybe a little hurt, though he didn’t want to admit it. Barry was still coming to the foundry, every day like clockwork. He was still bantering with Felicity, he was still laughing with Roy and Diggle, he was still training with Laurel. There was barely a difference, really.

            It was only with Oliver that Barry was different. He barely made eye contact. But he would only respond when Oliver directly asked him questions. He went out into the field with them and did what he was supposed to. He listened to Oliver’s orders more than he ever had before. He wasn’t cold, not exactly. He just wasn’t _there._

            And when they would get home at night, Barry went straight to his room. He kept the door closed. He left for work _early._ Barry, chronically late _Barry_ , was getting to work early or on time every morning, and it seemed to be just because he wanted to avoid Oliver. Oliver was more than a little wounded at that.

            He didn’t know what was wrong. He couldn’t get Barry to talk to him. At least if Barry had just quit the team or just moved out of the apartment or was outwardly angry at Oliver, he would have some sense of how to fix this. He was at a loss. Barry was _impossible_. And it hurt to have to miss him when he was right there.

            Oliver wasn’t even sure if the rest of the team had noticed the difference. Barry still quipped, still smiled, still gloated. Oliver watched him warmly hug Laurel, and let Roy confide in him, and ask Felicity about Ray. Barry was the same he’d always been- warm, kind, helpful. Just not with Oliver. Not anymore.

            Oliver walked into the foundry, unable to shake his discomfort, and only Diggle and Felicity were there, calmly chatting.

            He stopped, looked around. “Where is everyone?”

            “Well, Laurel and Roy are both at their day jobs,” Diggle reported.

            Oliver paused. “And Barry?”

            Felicity and Diggle exchanged a confused glance. “Didn’t he tell you?” Felicity asked. “Barry got called to help down in Central City.”

            Oliver’s breath caught in his throat briefly, before he shook off the hurt. “Right, must’ve slipped my mind,” he murmured, frowning. _Barry left. He didn’t even tell me._

            “You alright, Oliver?” Diggle asked.

            Oliver glanced up at him briefly. “I’m fine,” he said nonchalantly.

            “We have a case,” Felicity said. “A man who uses killer boomerangs, since apparently, the bad guys are running out of new weapons.”

            “I guess they’re trying to compete with the bow and arrow,” Diggle said, deadpan.

            “You know, Oliver, this has iron oxide on it,” she said, gesturing to the boomerang. She glanced up at him. “You know where has a lot of iron oxide? Central City. We should head down there, see if we can find anything.”

            “Or we could just tell Barry, ask if he’ll look into it since he’s already there,” Diggle added.

            Oliver considered calling Barry, and hearing his empty, emotionless voice being painfully polite on the other end. The courtesy was almost the worst part. “No, he’s working on a case,” Oliver replied. “We should just go down there ourselves.”

\---

            Barry felt like he could breathe again when he got to S.T.A.R. Labs. All the time he spent around Oliver was draining him. He couldn’t act normal, he couldn’t act on his feelings, so he just shut down. It wasn’t the best method of dealing, but it felt like the easiest at least.

            “Dude, you’ve missed some cool metas,” Cisco told him with an excited grin. “A guy who could turn himself into steel, and a guy who could consume electricity. It was awesome.”

            Barry chuckled, crossing his arms. “That sounds cool, too bad I missed that.”

            “Well, we try to only call you when we need to,” Caitlin said, shooting him a smile from behind her computer screen. “We figured you have a lot going on in Starling.”

            “It certainly keeps the crime lab busy,” he replied, rubbing the back of his head. 

            “And the vigilantes, I’d imagine,” Dr. Wells added with a knowing stare. “How is our friend the _Arrow_ , anyway?” Barry tensed at the way he said _the Arrow_ like it left a bad taste in his mouth.

            “Yeah, you’ve been working with him, right?” Cisco interjected, not noticing Wells’ cold tone. “How is that? Is it awesome? I bet it’s awesome.”

            Barry pushed his emotions down and grinned, nodding. “I mean, yeah, it’s pretty awesome.”

            Joe shook his head and shot Barry a disappointed-father look. “Can we get back to the meta?”

            “Right,” Caitlin replied quickly. “The meta-human who seems to be able to send people into a blind rage.”

            “It’s crazy,” Joe said, turning to Barry. “The crime scene at the bank was a mess. I mean, there were people fighting like crazy. Someone even got shot, and the woman swears she had no idea what she was doing.”

            Barry raised his eyebrows. “That’s not good.”

            “No kidding,” Joe agreed. “The CSI thought maybe it was an airborne drug or a neurotoxin, but he couldn't find anything at the scene.”

            “That poor CSI,” Barry said with a laugh, shaking his head.

            “You’re telling me,” Joe replied with an amused grin. “He thinks he’s going crazy.”

            “Let’s get back to the matter at hand. If this meta-human can engender irrational feelings of anger in his victims, he can do a lot of damage,” Wells said.

            “Barry, we got copies of the CAT scans the hospital did on everyone in the bank,” Caitlin said, waving him over to the computers.

            “The emotion centers of the brains are still showing signs of being overwhelmed,” Wells said.

            “Particularly the area that controls executive function,” Caitlin added. “Which is the part of the brain that stops people from doing whatever random and potentially destructive things pop into their heads.”

            “So they lose all self-control. Any ideas on how the meta works?” Barry said, turning to her.

            “Not yet.”

            “Well, look at that,” Cisco said, typing on his computer. “Police got a ping from the tracer hidden in the stolen cash.”

            “I’m on it,” Barry said, speeding away.

            Barry got there just in time to see a member of the SWAT team turning and aiming his gun back at the team rather than the meta. His eyes had a red shine to them and he pulled the trigger.

            Barry ran past the bullets, pulling several cops off to the sides, and then diving and pulling the last two cops to the ground with him, barely getting out of the way.

            He turned back, hearing the click of the gun and seeing the affected police officer approaching, when two arrows zipped past Barry and pinned the cop to the ground.

            Barry turned, heart racing with adrenaline, and there was Oliver, standing in the corner of the room as the Arrow.

            He lowered his bow, and shot Barry a weak smile. “Nice mask,” he said, his voice deep. He lingered another moment before disappearing.

            _What’s he doing here?_ Barry thought, dismayed.

\---

            Barry called Felicity to get their location, running fast in order to beat Oliver there. He didn’t want to see Oliver, didn’t want Oliver to be here. It hurt too much to look at him. But he could ask Felicity and Diggle what was going on.

            “Hey, guys,” Barry said with a grin as he skidded to a stop, his mask pulled back.

            “You made me drop my fries,” Diggle said flatly, looking at the ground. “Am I ever gonna get used to you blowing in like that?”

            “Apparently not,” Barry replied, before shifting on his feet and crossing his arms. “So what brings you guys to Central City?”

            “Working a case,” Felicity said, digging through her bag. “Suspicious homicide in Starling where the murder weapon is a boomerang.” She pulled out the evidence bag and handed it to Barry.

            “Criminals just keep getting more and more creative,” Barry replied, examining the weapon.

            “There are traces of iron oxide on it,” Felicity continued. “I know it’s a long shot, but Central City has the highest concentration of iron oxide in the country.”

            “So why didn’t you just call me?” Barry asked, handing the boomerang back to Felicity. “I mean, I’m already here on a case.”

            Diggle and Felicity exchanged a quick glance. “Well, we didn’t want to distract you from your case,” Felicity told him. “I mean, the S.T.A.R. Labs team only calls you here when they really need you, so we figured you’d be pretty busy.”

            Barry raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, but he didn’t push it, because Oliver was coming up on his bike right then. Barry plastered on a grin to Diggle and Felicity, pretending not to notice the motorcycle. “You’re right, I should probably get back there right now anyway. It’s a pretty weird case.”

            “Wait, Barry, why don’t we see if we can all work together on this one?” Felicity asked, fidgeting with her hands. “I mean, we could really use the minds at S.T.A.R. Labs, and if it’s as weird a case as you say, it might be good to have everyone in on it. Plus, it could be fun.” She looked at him hopefully.

            Barry glanced over at where Oliver was parking his bike, hesitating. “Alright, sounds good,” he said, trying to sound excited. “I’ll just head back to S.T.A.R. Labs, let them know you guys are coming.”

            “Hey, bring me with, they already know me,” Felicity said. Barry grinned and picked her up, speeding to S.T.A.R. Labs before Oliver had a chance to say anything to him.

            Oliver watched Barry leave as he walked over to Diggle.

            “Barry’s avoiding you,” Diggle said, stating the obvious.

            “I know,” Oliver replied. He just didn’t know why.

            Barry decided it was a good move to bring the boomerang to S.T.A.R. Labs, because Cisco was more than willing to look into it. He held the boomerang like it was a toy Felicity had given him.

            “I wanna run some tests and I wanna run them right now,” he said enthusiastically as he and Felicity went into the lab to examine it.

            “Any news on our meta?” Barry asked, turning to Caitlin.

            “Well, the officer that was affected reported seeing a flash of red before he lost control,” Caitlin said. “It gives us a little insight. It’s possible the meta is inducing rage via the ocular nerve.” She turned to look at Barry. “And Dr. Wells asked to see you.”

            That immediately put Barry on edge. All nerves, he walked to Wells’ office. He hadn’t been alone with the man- ever. He had semi-deliberately avoided it since Wells made him so uneasy. Nevertheless, he went.

            He relaxed a little bit when he saw that Joe was there, too. “What’s going on?” he asked.

            Joe looked over at Wells.

            “Detective West mentioned that you’ve been working with the Arrow up in Starling,” Wells began.

            “Yeah, so?” Barry replied, crossing his arms. “What’s the problem?”

            “We don’t trust him,” Wells said matter-of-factly.

            “No offense, but I’m not sure if that’s relevant,” Barry said, standing up straighter. He was here as a favor, to help with the meta-humans. Wells could not judge him or his choices.

            “He’s still wanted for murder, Barry,” Joe said.

            “Joe, we’ve been over this already,” Barry replied, quickly getting irritated. He didn’t want to be talking about Oliver at all, let alone like this.

            “I know we have,” Joe replied, standing up. “And I still don’t think you’re hearing me.”

            “The Arrow is not someone you should be associating yourself with,” Dr. Wells said, hands folded in his lap.

            “What I do and who I choose to work with really isn’t up to either of you.” Barry was losing patience with this. “And the Arrow is a hero.”

            “He has a brutal, dark vision of justice, Barry. One I would imagine you do not share,” Wells continued, giving Barry a stern look. “He plays judge, jury, and executioner.”

            “It’s bad enough that you work with him up there, Barry. You shouldn’t bring him here, not to our city,” Joe said, crossing his arms. He gave Barry a hard stare. “He’s not welcome here.”

            “For the record, I didn’t bring him,” Barry retorted. “And I don’t control where he goes. But he’s only here for intel. He won’t be staying long.”

            Joe and Wells exchanged a look, but Barry wasn’t willing to listen to any more of it. He opted to stay at a hotel rather than at Joe’s.

\---

            Felicity had asked Barry to meet her at Jitters the next day, but Barry was not expecting to see her sitting at a table with Oliver. He half-considered just leaving, but it wasn’t exactly a viable option anymore when Felicity noticed him and waved him over.

            _Well, I can’t avoid Oliver forever. I do live with him, after all._ He walked over with a forced smile. “Hey, guys,” he said, directing it mostly at Felicity.

            “The meta that you’re after, the bank robber, his name is Roy G. Bivolo,” Oliver told him, his voice all business. All Oliver could feel, seeing Barry’s face, was how unwelcome he was here. He shouldn’t have let Felicity talk him into helping with Barry’s case.

            “Thanks,” Barry replied, with a polite smile and distant gaze. Oliver masked the hurt he felt.

            Iris came over, holding the coffee for Felicity and Oliver. “Barry!” she said, after she gave Oliver a lingering smile. She hit Barry softly in the arm. “Why don’t you ever tell me when you’re in town?”

            Barry smiled warmly at her, and Oliver had to look away. It hurt to see Barry look at someone like that. _Iris doesn’t know how lucky she is._ “Well, it tends to be an impulse decision to visit. Not a lot of planning involved.”

            She hit his arm again. “And you’ve been avoiding my calls! Seriously, when can I come visit you in Starling?” Oliver tried to catch Barry's eye to give him a questioning look.  _This is the first I've heard of that._

            Barry chuckled, a little nervously. “It’s just been really busy up there. I swear, I’ll let you know when you can come.”

            “You better! Anyway, I’m glad you’re here. I see you brought your roommate this time,” she said, turning her gaze back to Oliver. Barry had to keep from rolling his eyes. “Nice to see you again, Oliver.”

            “Nice to see you too, Iris,” Oliver replied with a wide smile. _This is the girl Barry loves._

            Barry stifled a sigh and exchanged a bemused look with Felicity at Iris’ obvious fawning. “Well, I should get going,” Barry said with a smile.

            “And I should get back to work,” Iris added, straightening up.

            “We should catch up later,” Barry said to her, giving her a quick hug before heading for the door.

            He couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

            Oliver watched Barry leave, looking like he was absolutely desperate to get away. He wondered when exactly Barry started being unable to stand his presence.

            “So Barry agreed to have us work with him and the S.T.A.R. Labs team,” Felicity said, sipping her coffee casually, as though Oliver wouldn’t notice her staring.

            Oliver sighed and glanced back at the door. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

            “Why not?” Felicity insisted.

            “I don’t think Barry really wants our help.” _Or, more specifically my help._ “Besides, shouldn’t we be getting back to Starling?”

            “I’m sure Quentin, Roy, and Laurel can handle the city for another day or so,” Felicity replied, leaning forward. “And at some point, you and Barry are going to have to work out whatever fight you had.”

            Oliver shook his head. “You should really be telling him that.” _We didn’t even have a fight._

            “Look, it really doesn’t matter who’s at fault anymore, you guys need to get over it. And there’s no time like the present for that.” Felicity looked at the door where Barry left, frowning. She wished she could do more to help. “For the record, Dr. Wells and Detective West both told Barry that you were dangerous and that he shouldn’t work with you. Barry defended you. Clearly, this is fixable. So _fix it_.”

            _Well, at least he doesn’t seem to hate me,_ Oliver thought to himself. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

            “You catch on quickly,” Felicity said with a sly smile. “Yeah, we already agreed to help.”

            Oliver sighed, hanging his head. He didn’t want to be around Barry. Well, he did, but not this version of Barry. Every cold word, every polite response, every distant glance, they all felt like a punch to the stomach. Oliver could barely take it anymore. It hurt too much, and he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve it.

\---

            Joe pulled Barry aside back at S.T.A.R. Labs, giving him a hard look. “The Arrow hasn’t left town.”

            Barry sighed, avoiding eye contact. _If I could make him leave, I would._ “No, he hasn’t.”

            “You didn’t mention that you got Bivolo’s name through torture, Barry.” Joe crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes. He didn’t understand how this couldn’t be getting through to Barry. “The Arrow is a crazy man.”

            “We wouldn’t have the name without him,” Barry pointed out. He might’ve not been enjoying being around Oliver at the moment, but that was no fault of Oliver’s, and he was still a good person. He was still worth defending. “You should be thanking him.”

            “Yeah, I’m not about to go thanking that lunatic,” Joe replied, shaking his head. “You’re better than this, Barry.”

            Barry sighed, frustrated. He stared at a spot on the wall, not wanting to look at Joe. “Apparently, I’m not.” He walked down the hall towards the lab, not looking back. He couldn’t keep having this conversation. It wasn’t going to get anywhere.

            “Barry!” Felicity said as he walked in the room, greeting him with a smile.

            “Right on time,” Cisco said, shooting a grin. “We just got a ping on facial-recognition software on Bivolo.”

            “We should let the Arrow know,” Felicity said. She glanced at Barry, who was shaking his head.

            “I can handle this,” he said flatly.

            “Barry, I really think you need to-”

            “Felicity,” Barry interrupted sharply. “I don’t need his help.”

            Barry was gone before Felicity could say another word. She just stood, frozen for a moment, feeling a little helpless. She didn’t know how to get things back to normal, and Barry wasn’t making it easy for her to try.

            Barry ran to the address, itching to do something. He got to the house, big and dark and sinister, walking inside confidently. He just needed to do something, distract himself, take his mind off of all of this.

            “I knew you’d be coming for me,” Bivolo said from the darkness. “I heard you were in town.” He stepped out into Barry’s line of sight.

            Barry charged at him, slamming him hard against the wall, feeling all his frustration and all his bitterness at once. And then Bivolo stared him right in the eye, and Barry saw his irises glow red.

            “Have some _real_ anger,” Bivolo said, his voice taunting, walking away as Barry loosened his grasp.

            All Barry could see for a moment was red, nothing but red. By the time his vision came back, Bivolo was gone.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second half of Flash 1.08

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, you don't understand, I'm so excited, this chapter is EXACTLY 4,000 words. It's so satisfying.

            Despite Barry’s insistence that he was fine, Caitlin checked his eyes, but found nothing there. There was no sign that anything had happened to him, that Bivolo had managed to affect him in any way.

            “Not feeling any rage?” Felicity asked hesitantly, examining Barry’s face.

            “No, I’m fine,” Barry said with a quick smile. “Something weird happened with his eyes for a minute, like everything went red for a second.” Barry shrugged, starting to get up and walk away. “Next thing I knew, Bivolo was gone.”

            “You shouldn’t have gone alone,” Caitlin said sternly.

            “His powers didn’t work on me. Clearly. I’m _fine_ ,” Barry said back, irritation in his voice.

            Felicity glanced at him, looking worried. “Well, the Arrow wants to see you.”

            Barry shot her a glare. “Fine.”

            He ran to where Oliver was, his blood hot in his veins. He didn’t want to have to deal with this. It was bad enough to have to see Oliver in Starling, but he had no right to follow him to Central City, and he certainly had no right to ask to see him. This was all _his_ fault anyway, letting Barry fall for him. Barry gritted his teeth as he ran, fists curled, his feet pounding heavily on the pavement.

            He slid to a stop by Oliver, refusing to look at him. “What do you want?” he asked.

            “You went after Bivolo alone,” Oliver said evenly. He stood up straight, hands behind his back, trying to swallow his pride. _Just because you don’t want to see me doesn’t mean you can go out and be reckless._

            “I always go after people alone in Central City, since you’re not there to stop me or lecture me,” Barry replied, annoyed. _Why can’t you leave me alone?_ “Just because you don’t think I can handle myself in Starling City doesn’t mean that I can’t. I do just fine on my own, which you should realize by now.”

            “Only so far,” Oliver said. “You aren’t careful. It’ll catch up with you.” _Please don’t get hurt._

            Barry scoffed. “Oh, lay off! I don’t actually remember asking for your input,” he shot back, contempt bleeding into his tone. “But I guess you’re not used to people not wanting to hear from you or see you. Guy like you, rich, handsome, could get any girl he wanted- you’re probably not used to _rejection_. Oliver Queen just can’t handle not being wanted somewhere. That’s gotta dent your pride, _Ollie._ ”

            Oliver almost flinched at that, how Barry spat the nickname like it was an insult. He thought that Barry being angry at him might be better than Barry ignoring him. He was wrong about that. This was so much worse than Barry just avoiding him. He turned to look at Barry, hoping to see some hint of regret or hurt, something to show that Barry didn’t mean it. All he saw was Barry staring straight ahead, eyes hard.

            “I told Felicity you didn’t want my help,” Oliver said quietly, keeping the hurt out of his voice. He couldn’t show Barry how stung he felt.

            “Well, look at that, you’re finally right about something,” Barry shot back, turning to leave. But then he spun back around, fuming. “ _God,_ what could I possibly see in you?” he shouted.

            Oliver just stared for a moment, startled and dumbfounded. _What?_

            “You’re insufferable, completely oblivious, and you know what, there is _no_ good reason for you to be so bizarrely affectionate with me- I mean, shouldn’t you _know better?_ Have you changed at all since you were that douchebag billionaire playboy cheating on his girlfriend with her _sister?_ You’re either a complete careless idiot, or you just enjoy toying with people’s emotions,” Barry ranted, his voice rising. He paused, glaring at Oliver. “You know what, Ollie, just stay away from me.”

            He turned and sped away before Oliver could say anything.

            Oliver watched the lightning until it was out of view. Maybe Barry did hate him. But when did that start? And what was Barry even talking about? Oliver desperately tried to think of what he could’ve done, of what he’d said before Barry began ignoring him. How was he supposed to mend things when he didn’t know what to apologize for? Maybe Felicity was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t fixable at all. _I miss you, Barry._

            Oliver’s heart hurt, thinking about losing Barry from his life. Barry had never looked at Oliver with such disdain before.

\---

            The way Barry had yelled, the way he punched the wall, Joe already knew that Bivolo had affected him. His accusatory glare, his biting remarks, his thinly veiled threats. None of that was Barry. And Barry’s eyes had shone red, just to confirm what Joe already realized.

            Joe knew Barry. He knew the little kid who apologized for everything, whose anger was always a thin sheet to cover his hurt. This anger, this rage, Joe couldn’t see the hurt through it. It was thick and dark, and Barry was not dark. Joe watched Barry speed away after his cutting accusations, blaming Joe for his father being in prison.

            Joe went straight to S.T.A.R. Labs, where he’d been spending more and more time. He hoped that they would know what to do, that they would be able to find a way to bring Barry back.

            “We were wrong,” he said quickly, Caitlin and Cisco looking up immediately. “Barry was affected by Bivolo. It just didn’t hit him right away.”

            “It’s possible that his body is fighting the effects so it’s hitting him slower,” Caitlin theorized.

            “That is not a good thing,” Wells noted. “The longer you suppress an emotion-”

            “The bigger the explosion,” Felicity finished, fishing her phone out to tell Oliver.

            “Considering what he can do, how do we even stop him?” Joe asked.

            “None of _us_ can stop Barry,” Wells said. “Fortunately, Felicity knows someone who can.” He looked at Felicity expectantly.

            She froze, looking at her phone, with Oliver’s number already pulled up. Her stomach dropped with the realization. This wasn’t exactly going the way she’d hoped.

            “I think you’d better call _Oliver Queen_ ,” Wells continued with a smirk. “We’re going to need the Arrow’s help.”

            Felicity’s nerves got worse, her mouth opening slightly in shock. Wells had figured it out. It didn’t help that Caitlin and Cisco were both wide-eyed, exchanging glances. She was going to have to tell Oliver that he had to fight Barry, and that S.T.A.R. Labs now knew his identity.

\---

            Now that Barry was back in Central City, if only visiting, Eobard had a plan to force him to move back here. He had just lucked out with this meta-human causing Barry to lose control.

            Oliver Queen was not important to history, as far as Eobard was concerned. He was a blip on the radar, the Green Arrow. If Oliver died decades before history said he would, it wouldn’t make that much of a difference. He already had Roy Harper as Arsenal, and if Eobard knew anything about the history of the vigilantes, if one fell, another rose to take the torch. If Roy Harper took Oliver Queen’s place, history would barely change.

            Besides, Eobard did not concern himself with Team Arrow. They had no relevance to his life, to his history. All that mattered was Barry Allen, and getting back home to his time. It would’ve been so much easier if he could just kill Barry, but he needed someone with access to the Speed Force.

            It was convenient that the Arrow was in town at just the right time, just when Barry Allen was seeing red. The Flash was dangerous today, which was a rare occurrence.

            And how would sweet, heroic Barry Allen feel if he killed the Starling City vigilante, his close friend? Traumatized, for sure. Traumatized enough to move back home to Central City, and seek comfort with his family- most importantly, with Iris West. Eobard was not thrilled with his role as matchmaker, but it was important that Eddie Thawne not marry Iris West.

            There were two things he had to do for this plan to work: interfere with Oliver Queen’s arrows to put him at a disadvantage, and let Barry Allen see him as the Man in Yellow. Barry would be distraught at having caused the death of his close friend, and then he would have to redirect that anger and pain at avenging his mother.

            He would have no choice but to return to Central City, where Harrison Wells would kindly and graciously assure him that the death of Oliver Queen was not his fault, and promise to help him become fast enough to catch his mother’s murderer.

            It would work. It had to work.

\---

            Oliver was told immediately when they got a location on Barry. He made his way there quickly, his pulse pounding in his ears. He shoved away any fear, any hurt, any emotion at all. The only thing that was important was stopping Barry before he hurt someone, getting him back to S.T.A.R. Labs, where they could help him.

            Oliver focused on the end goal. Barry needed help. He needed to get Barry that help, at any cost. By any means necessary, get Barry back to S.T.A.R. Labs. _Don’t think about it._

            If he had to make Barry hate him in the process, it would still be worth it.

            He found Barry in an empty alleyway, fists curled and glaring with a red glint in his eyes. Before he could try to speak, Oliver felt a gust of wind, saw a flash of red lightning. And then there was a man in yellow standing in the alleyway, a few yards past Barry.

            “Barry Allen,” the man growled, his voice distorted in a way that made Oliver’s skin crawl. “The _Flash._ ” How did this man know who Barry was?

            Barry spun around, turning his vicious glare away from Oliver. “ _You,_ ” he hissed, shock and fury laced into his voice. He started to move towards the man, when Oliver shot a rope arrow, stopping Barry in his tracks.

            The man in yellow let out a cold, cruel laugh before speeding away in a flash of red lightning. Barry watched as he got away, fuming, before turning back to Oliver. He grabbed the rope, speeding backwards just enough to pull Oliver to the ground.

            “Do you have _any_ idea what you just did?” Barry snarled. “When will you get it through your thick skull that _I don’t want you here_?” He vibrated until he phased through the rope- _well, that’s new_. He could feel his hair standing on end on the back of his neck, and rage prickling at his skin. In that moment, he hated Oliver.

            “You need to calm down,” Oliver said, meeting Barry’s glare. He got to his feet and walked toward Barry slowly, cautiously.

            “You need to stop telling me what to do,” Barry replied. He sped forward, kicking Oliver’s legs out from under him, pushing him to the ground. _You let my mother’s killer get away._ “You arrogant, self-involved jackass. You don’t know anything.”

            Barry turned and began to walk away, and Oliver shot an arrow at him, hitting his shoulder. Barry yelled in pain, reaching around and tugging the arrow out roughly.

            He turned back around, rage pulsing, eyes red. Oliver had gotten to his feet and was aiming another arrow at him. Oliver tried to keep his hands steady, but something felt off. His quiver felt lighter, his arrows imbalanced. Something was wrong.

            Barry made a move to go after him again but stumbled to his knees.

            “Horse tranquilizer,” Oliver said. “Should be hitting you right about now.”

            Barry seethed, pulling himself back to his feet. He made himself vibrate, removing the tranquilizer from his system as quickly as possible. He felt the dizziness leave, and he shot an arrogant smirk at Oliver before charging at him again.

            Oliver’s mouth went dry when the tranquilizer didn’t work. It occurred to him how much he might have to hurt Barry to take him down. He clenched his jaw, and Barry began running around him, sucking the air away. Oliver shot a grappling arrow at the side of a building, pulling himself up quickly, but the arrow snapped in two before he got to the top. He fell hard on his back, groaning.

            “Nice trick. You’re making this _easy_ ,” Barry sneered, speeding over to where Oliver fell. Barry leaned down, his face inches from Oliver’s, his hands pressing Oliver’s shoulders into the pavement. “I can’t imagine why I _ever_ thought you were a hero.”

            “I still believe in you, Barry,” Oliver murmured, his gaze falling away from Barry’s glare down to his lips. He brought his hand up to Barry’s wrist for a moment, brushing his thumb against it gently, feeling the electricity. Then Oliver twisted, managing to kick Barry off of him before jumping back to his feet. He swung at Barry, turning and watching the lightning dodge and move, trying to calculate where Barry was going to be.

            Oliver managed to hit Barry in the face with the corner of his bow, making him stumble off his feet. His mistake was hesitating when he saw the blood trickle down Barry’s face. He made a move to touch Barry’s cheek, see if he was okay.

            Barry lunged at Oliver, speeding around him on the offense rather than the defense, punching him in the stomach and in the ribs before Oliver even had time to react. Barry’s eye’s glinted with lightning and wrath, before he punched Oliver in the cheek, knocking him to the ground.

            Oliver groaned on the pavement, his sides burning. He turned onto his side, vision almost blurry, and tried to shoot an arrow at Barry’s thigh, but the arrow faltered as it flew, veering to the side.

            It missed by several inches. Barry smirked. “You’re off your game, Ollie.”

            Oliver felt the worry set in. _I might lose._ But he was more worried about what could happen to Barry than what could happen to him. He started to get up, but Barry lunged forward, pressing his foot into the center of Oliver’s chest, holding him down. He glared down at Oliver in contempt, curling his lip.

            Oliver grabbed Barry's leg, twisting so he fell to the ground on his back. Oliver rolled over, straddling Barry’s waist and pinning his wrists to the ground above his head. “I don’t want to fight you, Barry,” he said softly, searching Barry’s eyes for some sort of glimpse of hesitation or recognition. There was nothing but anger and hate. Oliver felt his chest tightening. _Barry, please._

            Barry took advantage of Oliver’s moment of distraction to push him off, standing and knocking Oliver back to the pavement.

            Oliver looked at the red shine in Barry’s eyes, heart hurting. He just had to get Barry to stop running, and then it would be over. He pulled a knife he kept hidden in his jacket and threw it into Barry’s thigh as Barry started approaching again.

            Barry faltered for a moment, crying out in pain and almost falling. But his rage was stronger than the pain, and he forced himself to stay on his feet.

            Oliver stood back up, his shoulders feeling heavy. Barry’s cry of hurt had pierced him, cutting through his skin. He met Barry’s hateful glare with a sad gaze. “Barry…” he said, his voice pleading. _I can’t do this anymore. Don’t make me keep doing this._

            Barry swung his fist at Oliver’s face, but the hurt in his thigh slowed him down. Oliver caught his fist, twisting his arm and spinning him around so he was caught in Oliver’s grasp, his back pressed into Oliver’s chest.

            “Barry, this isn’t you,” Oliver said softly into Barry’s ear. He pressed his face into Barry’s shoulder for a moment as he held him steady. _Barry, come back._

            “You don’t know me,” Barry spat back. He reached his arm back fast, pulling an arrow from Oliver’s quiver and moving to sink it into Oliver’s side.

            Just then, Joe swung the van out in front of them, throwing the doors open, with the lights Caitlin had rigged to offset the effect. The flashed in Barry’s face, the colors blinding him. Oliver let him go, taking a step back, breathing heavily.

            Barry groaned, leaning forward and holding his head, feeling a splitting headache forming behind his eyes.

            “Barry?” Oliver said tentatively, looking at him warily. He reached out and put a steady hand on Barry’s neck, thumb brushing his jawline. “You okay?”

            Barry turned to face him, eyes wide and clear. He dropped the arrow he’d taken to the ground, letting go of it like it burned. _What was I about to do?_  “I’m so sorry, Ollie,” he breathed, staring at Oliver in horror. _I wanted to kill him. How could I want that?_

            “It’s not your fault,” Oliver replied, his voice soothing. He slid his hand to Barry’s waist, letting Barry use him as support as he limped to the car.

            Barry could only think about what he’d said, what he’d done, what he could’ve done. _It sure feels like it’s my fault, Ollie._

\---

            After they easily caught Bivolo, Oliver spoke to the S.T.A.R. Labs team, explaining how important it was that his identity be kept a secret. He felt assured that they understood, having already known Barry’s secret, but he wanted to be clear. Cisco and Caitlin seemed kind, understanding. Joe West had even warmed up to him, thanking him.

            The only one that left Oliver feeling uncertain was Wells. He couldn’t place it, but there was something that bothered him there. And there was the concern gnawing at the back of Oliver’s mind: someone had rigged his arrows to fail, removed parts, ruined their balance. It had to have been someone here.

            Barry went over to Joe, brow furrowed. “Joe, the man in yellow was there. I saw him.”

            Joe’s eyes widened. “The man who killed your mother?”

            Barry nodded grimly. “He’s back. He was only there for a second, but…” He paused, making sure to look Joe in the eyes so he could see how serious he was. “Keep an eye out for him. Call me if there’s even a potential sighting.”

            “Of course,” Joe replied, his voice low.

            With that, Barry began lingering by the door, waiting for Oliver to be done. Felicity made her way over to him, smiling. “Quite an interesting case,” she noted, standing next to him.

            Barry nodded. “A meta who can put people in a homicidal rage. Not something we’ve seen before.”

            Felicity hesitated, glancing up at him. “Are you doing okay?”

            Barry let out a short laugh. “The rage is gone, don’t worry.”

            “That’s not what I meant,” Felicity said nudging his arm. Her presence was a comfort, making Barry feel a little better. Though after what he’d almost done, he didn’t feel like he deserved comfort.

            “I know,” he said with a sigh, glancing over at Oliver with a pained look in his eye.

            “Listen, I don’t know what Oliver did or said, but I’m sure he’s very, very sorry,” she said.

            “Oliver didn’t do anything,” Barry admitted quietly. “It’s more complicated than that.”

            “Well, whatever it is, fix it. Tell him what’s going on.” Felicity angled herself in front of him, catching his eye, giving him a kind, understanding look. “He’s been an emotional wreck since you started acting so weird, Barry.”

            “I’ll talk to him,” Barry promised. When he looked back at Oliver, though, he wasn’t sure that he could.

\---

            Eobard stormed into his secret room the second he got the chance. It didn’t work. How could it not work? He took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. Barry had still seen the man in yellow. Maybe that would still bring him back.

            If Eobard was lucky, Barry would finally realize he couldn’t work with the Arrow. Or Oliver Queen would get himself killed all on his own.

            “Gideon,” he said. “Show me the future.”

            “ _Certainly.”_

            The Flash still vanishes in a crisis, and the article is still written by Iris West-Thawne.

            Eobard felt the panic set in. He had been feeling his memories slowly slipping away from him. He was running out of time. It wouldn’t take long before he just ceased to exist.

            “Gideon,” he said. “How can I restore the timeline?”

            “ _I’m afraid that’s no longer possible.”_ Gideon’s mechanical voice was soothing, cool, but the weight of words hit Eobard like a ton of bricks. He was going to die. No, not die- he was going to fade from existence. It was already happening.

            Then there was only one thing left for him to do. Kill Barry Allen.

\---

            Barry got back to the apartment first, and it took all of his willpower not to go straight to his room and hide. He could’ve, easily. Oliver wouldn’t have tried to talk to him if the door was closed. But Oliver deserved an explanation, or at least an apology.

            Instead, Barry just took a deep breath, made himself some coffee, and settled on the couch. Waiting. He hated waiting. It gave him too much time to think.

            He felt guilt settle in the pit of his stomach as he thought about what he’d done and said. He wanted to curl up into a ball and hide and cry. He remembered how the rage pulsed in his ears, how it scratched at his skin, how it burned his eyes. He remembered how much he hated Oliver in that moment. All that was left now was the dull ache of the memory.

            Oliver froze in the doorway when he saw Barry sitting on the couch. “Barry,” he said, his voice light and careful. “You’re still up.”

            Barry couldn’t even force a smile onto his face, just looked up at Oliver with pain coloring his expression. “I wanted to apologize.”

            “It wasn’t your fault,” Oliver assured casually with a shrug, closing the door behind him. “You were affected by Bivolo.”

            “Not about that.” Barry paused, hesitating a moment. “Well, that too, but…”

            “May I?” Oliver asked, gesturing to the spot next to Barry on the couch. Barry nodded and Oliver sat down slowly, like he was afraid of startling Barry.

            “I’m sorry I’ve been so distant lately,” Barry said, meeting Oliver’s gaze. He had to force himself not to look away.

            Oliver just nodded, biting the inside of his cheek. “It’s okay.”

            “No, it’s really not,” Barry said with a sigh, running his hands through his hair. “It wasn’t anything you did or said or… It’s just- It’s my problem, not yours, and I shouldn’t be making it yours. I’ll just have to deal with it, and…” He trailed off, pressing his palms together and looking down.

            “You know, you can always talk to me,” Oliver said gently. “I could help.”

            Barry met his eyes again, a pained look on his face. “Not with this, Ollie,” he replied, barely audible. He took a deep breath before standing up. “Anyway, that was all, I just… I needed to say I’m sorry.” _I love you._ His voice broke a little, and he hesitated for a second before going back to his room, closing the door behind him.

            Barry leaned back against the door, sliding down it until he was on the floor. _Back to normal. I have to get back to normal._ He couldn’t let his feelings get in the way. Oliver didn’t deserve that. Barry took a deep breath, letting a few tears slip down his face before he swallowed his feelings and forced himself to push them away.

            Oliver got up, lingering in the living room and staring at Barry’s door. His chest ached, and he just wanted to follow Barry, insist on trying to help, asking Barry again to tell him what was wrong. But he didn’t. He walked slowly to his room, falling onto his bed. He slept with the door open.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking place during Arrow 3.08, The Brave and the Bold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was exceedingly hard to finish, for some reason.

            It felt almost normal again. Oliver could still feel a lingering tension that he couldn’t quite place, but Barry seemed more or less back to his usual self. They had coffee together in the morning, they left the foundry together at night. It felt better, at least. Barry was looking him in the eye again. Talking to him again.

            Oliver was just having trouble letting go of what had happened. He kept almost asking Barry what had really been going on. He had suspicions, but he didn’t want to make any assumptions. He knew that Barry said that he couldn’t help, but he wanted to try. He didn’t want Barry to have to go through anything alone.

            As they hung around the foundry, waiting for a location on the boomerang killer, Barry was feeling a little better. A little more okay. After years of unrequited love with Iris, he was used to compartmentalizing his feelings. It was just such a crushing realization that after years of living with the girl he loved and having to swallow his feelings and watch her be with other people, he would have to do the exact same thing with the guy he loved. It just wasn’t fair.

            It didn’t help that Oliver seemed so comfortable with him when they were alone in the apartment. It just made him want to spill his guts, really, just tell Oliver everything. But he couldn’t do that, not knowing what he’d be risking, what he could lose. He never wanted to lose Oliver.

            “Alright, I have a location,” Felicity announced to the room.

            Barry straightened up and turned away from his conversation with Laurel, about to prepare to leave.

            “Oliver, let me come,” Laurel said, and Barry stopped moving. He shot Oliver a look of warning, hoping Oliver would either let her or at least be delicate about telling her she had to stay behind.

            Oliver shook his head, and Barry rolled his eyes. “Not yet, Laurel. And definitely not on this case. This one isn’t a good place to start.”

            “Well, when would be a good time to start?” Laurel replied, crossing her arms challengingly.

            “I don’t know, Laurel,” Oliver said, clenching his jaw. “But not this time.”

            Barry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Oliver was just going to make things worse. “Laurel, how about this,” he said, deliberately turning towards her and away from Oliver. “You and I can go catch some low level criminals while the three of them go after the boomerang killer.”

            “Fine,” Laurel said, her voice tight from her wounded pride.

            “Barry, I don’t think-” Oliver started, taking a step forward.

            Barry snapped his gaze over to Oliver. “We’re not asking for your permission, Ollie,” he replied sharply, but then shot an apologetic smile. He turned to Felicity. “Give me a location.”

            Felicity quickly pulled up the police scanner and the traffic cameras. “There’s an attempted robbery in progress at a convenience store in the Glades.”

            Barry nodded, grabbing Laurel and speeding her down there.

            There were two men holding up the store, each holding a gun aimed at the store clerk. Barry sped around as everyone else stood still, pulling the guns out of their hands.

            He stopped a few yards in front of them, letting the guns clatter to the floor with a smirk. “Have you not heard of us or something?” he said with a confident grin.

            At that, Laurel lunged at one of the men, fighting him with cat-like grace, dodging his clumsy attempts to grab her. Barry sped to get two pairs of handcuffs from the nearest cop, returning to see that Laurel had managed to get both of the robbers on their stomachs. Barry shot her a grin before handcuffing the men and delivering them to the curb in front of a cop.

            The store clerk stumbled over a thank you, and Laurel replied, “Just doing our job,” before they went back out to the streets.

            They worked together well, figuring out a system. Barry disarmed the criminals first, then moved the civilians out of harms way while Laurel fought and apprehended the criminals before they had the chance to get away. And then Barry would deliver them to the authorities.

            Barry and Laurel made the rounds of the city, stopping various muggings and assaults. Laurel seemed to be feeling better, more confident, and Barry was just happy to be helping with that.

 

            Watching Barry speed out of the room, Oliver couldn’t bring himself to feel annoyed or frustrated. After all the strange behavior from Barry, Oliver felt comforted at his usual defiance and stubbornness. It was better than his coldness or his anger, that was for sure.

            Oliver and the rest of the team made their way to the boomerang killer’s hideout that Felicity had found with the help of the findings from S.T.A.R. Labs. It was rigged with explosives, and Oliver and Roy set them off with arrows before going to investigate. But when they went inside, they were met with A.R.G.U.S. agents after the same man. _Let this go,_ they’d said.

            “Are we gonna let this go?” Roy asked.

            “What do you think?” Oliver replied.

            They went back to where Diggle was standing by in the car, ready to head back to the foundry to get more intel on what was going on. Barry and Laurel had returned moments before they did, still in their masks, looking exhilarated. Oliver told himself feeling happy for them, though there was a twinge of jealousy mixed in. 

            Felicity managed to dig up the information that A.R.G.U.S. had tried to have completely wiped, that the man who the boomerang killer had murdered was an A.R.G.U.S. agent.

            “Could Lyla get us a lead?” Roy asked.

            “If this is an A.R.G.U.S. thing, Lyla’s gonna want it to stay that way,” Diggle said.

            “Then tell her to stop letting people get killed in my city,” Oliver replied, unimpressed.

            “You really don’t care about my marriage, do you?” Diggle deadpanned.

            “Well, I would… If you and Lyla were still married,” Oliver replied pointedly.

            Barry and Laurel exchanged an amused glance. Oliver stiffened a little- _When did they get so close?_

            “Oh, I meant to tell you, Caitlin and Cisco are coming up here,” Felicity said.

            Oliver raised his eyebrows, with a glance to Barry. “Why exactly?”

            “Well, I may have gotten a DNA sample off the arrow that killed Sara and asked them to analyze it,” Felicity said quickly, hoping it wouldn’t quite register.

            “You did what now?” Laurel asked, brow furrowed.

            “And why is this the first we’re hearing about it?” Barry added, noticing Laurel’s darkening expression. He put a comforting hand on her arm, and she shot him a weak smile. Oliver glanced away from them, feeling uncomfortable.  

            “That’s really neither here nor there. The point is that they’ll be here in twenty minutes,” Felicity said, smiling at Oliver nervously. “For the record, I didn’t actually ask them to come here. They wanted to, uh… see the Arrow Cave.”

            Oliver let out an exasperated sigh, leaning his forehead into his hand. “We’re not calling it that.”

            When they got there, Cisco spent a good amount of time fawning over the trick arrows and the tech, while Barry happily led him around and showed him everything. They were speaking excitedly, discussing the potential improvements they could make.

            Oliver watched them, frustrated and dismayed, trying to interrupt, but he couldn’t get a word in edgewise. He got increasingly irritated as Cisco referred to his arrows and tech as “toys.”

            “The Arrow Cave is getting a little crowded,” Roy noted.

            Oliver clenched his jaw. “Nope. Still not calling it that.”

            Then Diggle called, and told them that the boomerang killer had broken into A.R.G.U.S. while he was there to speak to Lyla. He was throwing explosive boomerangs, killing and maiming agents left and right.

            “I thought we were the ones with the eccentric villains,” Cisco commented.

            “We should go,” Oliver said, grabbing his bow. He paused, pointing at Laurel. “Not you.”

            Laurel shot him a glare, but didn’t protest, just standing with her arms crossed over her chest. She was still stuck on the new lead in Sara’s murder.

            “Are you going to get there in time?” Caitlin said, sounding concerned. As soon as she finished the sentence, Barry had sped out of the room, papers flying behind him.

            “Damn it, Barry,” Oliver muttered, rubbing his temples in exasperation.

            “Why haven’t we gotten those paperweights yet?” Felicity exclaimed, swiftly trying to gather the scattered pages.

            “Does he do that often?” Cisco asked, gesturing to where Barry had left.

            “We can’t seem to get him to stop,” Roy replied with a bemused smile.

            Oliver didn’t look like he found it remotely as amusing. Though at least it was another sign that Barry was getting back to normal. Back to his normal reckless self, who never listens or waits for help.

            Barry managed to get Diggle and Lyla back to the foundry before the rest of the team had left, but they hadn’t managed to apprehend the boomerang killer. He had gotten away, as Barry pulled boomerangs out of the air before they managed to hit people.

            “He was a member of the Suicide Squad,” Lyla told the team back at the foundry. “Digger Harkness.”

            “The Suicide Squad?” Oliver said. “How did he get free?”

            “Well, there was a mission that went south,” Lyla explained. “The team had to be sanitized.”

            “You mean killed,” Diggle corrected with a disapproving look.

            “The microbomb in his neck must have malfunctioned,” Lyla continued, ignoring his interjection.

            Caitlin and Cisco exchanged glances, looking startled. It wasn’t exactly what they were used to in Central City.

            Barry got to work putting the exploded boomerangs back together before handing them over to Cisco.

            “These are more teched out than the one you brought to Central City,” Cisco told Felicty, examining the boomerang in awe. “They also weren’t made by Boomerang.”

            “Then we need to find out who did,” Oliver said, trying to ignore the nickname Cisco had given Harkness.

            “Markos,” Cisco replied quickly. “His signature is all over this. Klaus Markos.”

            Felicity nodded, quickly heading over to the computer. “No known address. But he was arrested last year by a Detective Quentin Lance.”

            “Barry-” Oliver started.

            “I’m on it,” Barry replied, speeding out of the room.

            “If anyone is wondering what I want for my birthday, it’s paperweights,” Felicity muttered, rubbing her forehead.

            Laurel made her way over to Caitlin, hesitantly. “I heard Felicity is having you look at a DNA sample. Do you think you’ll be able to figure out who it was?”

            “Well, the sample is pretty degraded, so it’ll take some time,” Caitlin explained. “But I’m confident we’ll be able to get something out of it.”

            Laurel nodded, reassured. “Sara was my sister,” she told Caitlin quietly.

            Caitlin put her hand on Laurel’s shoulder, looking her in the eyes. “We’ll do everything we can to help, I promise,” she replied, her tone kind and sincere. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

\---

            Barry got to the police station quickly, seeing Captain Lance looking like he was getting ready to leave.

            “Allen, weren’t you done here hours ago?” Quentin said, frowning.

            “Yeah, I got off a while ago. I just remembered that I had an old case file I wanted to pull up,” Barry said quickly, realizing he hadn’t quite thought this through. “You know, to help with a current case.”

            “Well, alright, far be it for me to stop you from working off the clock” Quentin replied.

            Barry just smiled a little awkwardly, slipping past him to go to the file room, pulling up Klaus Markos’ arrest file quickly before speeding back to the foundry.

            “He was arrested for identity theft,” Barry reported. “Stealing credit card numbers for the Bratva.”

            Diggle looked at Oliver expectantly. “That should be convenient for you, right?”

            “Well, I know where they run their cyber-crime operation,” Oliver said.

            “Can I come _this_ time?” Laurel said, crossing her arms.

            Barry shot Oliver a look, and Oliver sighed. “Fine. You, Diggle, and Roy check the perimeter and stand by as backup while Barry and I go inside.”

            They left quickly, Barry speeding in first. It didn’t take longer for him to find Klaus Markos, after he’d knocked out and zip tied all the Batva guarding in the main room, just in time for Oliver to get there.  

            “Klaus Markos,” Barry called.

            The man jumped up from his desk and started to run.

            Barry smirked. “Why do they always run?” he said to himself, before speeding over and pushing Markos back into his chair. “I need a location on a Digger Harkness, I hear you know him.”

            Oliver lingered in the doorway, hood pulled down, noticeably holding his bow. They had picked up this tactic recently, realizing that most criminals would talk to the Flash if they could see the threat of the Arrow. The Arrow had a reputation for being ruthless, after all. The Flash, on the other hand, wasn’t nearly as scary.

            “I don’t know where he is,” Markos said quickly, eyeing Oliver anxiously.

            “Come on, help me out, man,” Barry said, keeping his tone light. “You have to have something that’ll help me.”

            Oliver pulled an arrow out of his quiver, aiming it at Markos’ chest.

            Markos grabbed a phone off his desk, handing it quickly to Barry. “He gave me this, I called him and he showed up,” Markos said. “I swear, I don’t know anything else.”

            Barry nodded, handing the phone over to Oliver. “Thanks,” he said to Markos. Then he ran Markos to the precinct, handcuffing him quickly to Captain Lance’s file cabinet before heading back to Oliver.

            “Let’s get this back to Felicity, see if she can crack it,” Oliver said, leading Barry back outside to meet Diggle and Roy.

\---

            Lyla made her way over to Oliver as they waited. “We have to get Harkness by any means necessary,” she said, glancing over at where Diggle was sitting across the room. “There are some people who deal only in extremes.”

            “And it would be naïve to think that they’d respond to anything other than extreme methods,” Oliver finished for her. “I know, that’s an A.R.G.U.S. mindset. I just don’t think I believe in it anymore.”

            Lyla looked at him in surprise. “You certainly used to,” she said. “Based on your track record.”

            Oliver did used to. Amanda Waller had been the one to tell him that, during the five years he was away. He adopted that way of thinking because he had to in order to survive. And it had been a hard habit to shake in the years since he’d gotten back. He found himself looking at Barry from across the room, seeing him smiling and laughing with the team while they waited, eyes bright and beaming. “I guess I’ve changed.”

            Lyla followed his gaze. “It seems Barry’s rubbed off on you.”

            “Not just me,” Oliver replied, gazing at Barry with admiration. “He’s changed everyone.”

            Felicity managed to crack through the phone and get a location on Harkness, in a warehouse with ten other men, seeming prepared for someone to come after him. The team left quickly, Cisco tagging along, too. Diggle, Roy, Laurel, and Cisco stayed outside while Barry and Oliver went in.

            Barry got there shortly before Oliver did, tying up the men in the warehouse quickly. He turned when Oliver walk in and cocked his head to the side. “You’re late,” he teased.

            Oliver didn’t answer, just shot an arrow past Barry. Barry swiveled around to see a man who had been coming after him fall, with a tranquilizer arrow in his shoulder.

            “I knew he was there,” Barry said quickly, turning back to Oliver.

            Oliver smirked, walking towards Barry. “I’m sure you did.”

            “Where’s Digger Harkness?” Barry said, directing his question at one of the men.

            “Never met him,” the man replied. “But he gave us ten grand to give you this.”

            Barry took the phone out of the man’s hand, sighing. “Harkness played us,” he said to Oliver.

            “We need to get back to the foundry,” Oliver replied, urgently.

\---

            Felicity knew something was wrong when Markos’ phone started ringing. She had turned it off, the only way it could’ve been ringing is if someone had back traced it after she decrypted it.

            “We have to get out of here now,” she said urgently to Lyla and Caitlin, jumping out of her seat. As if on cue, a boomerang flew past her head, slamming into the desk. She and Caitlin ran out of the way and ducked for cover, as Lyla went for the guns.

            Lyla shot at Harkness as he tossed more boomerangs at her, and Felicity’s ears started ringing from the gunfire. She tried to make her way to the explosive arrows, but she got there seconds too late, tossing the bomb at Harkness as he ran out and Lyla got hit in the chest.

            “Caitlin!” she shouted, running over to Lyla. At least they had a real doctor here for this.

            The rest of the team got back too late, just to see Lyla bloody and still on the table. Diggle rushed over, touching her face gently and looking at Caitlin.

            “I got her stabilized, but I can’t operate on her here,” she told him.

            “Barry,” he said.

            Barry just nodded, picking Lyla up and running her to the nearest hospital.

\---

            Barry ran Diggle to the hospital so he could stay with Lyla. The rest of the team went upstairs to Verdant to give Oliver some space alone in the foundry. And Oliver sat in the foundry, eyes glazed over as he stared at the floor.

            Until Barry sped in, sitting down next to him without a word.

            “Is Lyla going to be okay?” Oliver asked quietly.

            “It’s too soon to tell,” Barry replied.

            Oliver paused for a moment. “Are _we_ okay, Bar?”

            Barry’s lip quirked up in the echo of a smile. “Yeah, Ollie. We’re good.”

            Oliver nodded. The silence grew, and the space between his chair and Barry’s felt like miles. Oliver just thought about all the ways this could have been prevented.

            “I shouldn’t have left them here alone,” he said.

            “We couldn’t have known,” Barry replied. “We were following what seemed like a good lead.”

            “Then I should have had us go just the two of us, left Diggle and Roy and Laurel behind, rather than having them stand by in the car. We didn’t need everyone there with us.”

            “Oliver, what does blaming yourself accomplish?” Barry asked with a sigh.

            “I just need to make sure I don’t make a mistake like this again,” Oliver said. “I need be better.”

            “You can’t be so hard on yourself,” Barry replied, leaning his elbows on his knees and looking up at Oliver. “Things go wrong, Ollie. It’s not always your fault.”

            Oliver looked back at Barry, relieved all over again to see Barry looking at him with those kind warm eyes, and speaking to him with sincerity. He didn’t know what he would’ve done if things never went back to normal with Barry.

            He thought about what Barry had said when he’d been affected, about how Oliver toyed with his emotions. He opened his mouth, wanting to ask what he’d meant by that. Wanting to ask what he’d meant by a lot of the things he said, though Oliver thought he might already know. He just wanted to hear Barry _say_ it. He needed to be sure.

            “I’m sorry if I’m interrupting,” Felicity said, walking in carefully. “I ran facial recognition on Harkness. I have a match.”

            Oliver and Barry exchanged a look. “Where is he?” Oliver asked.

\---

            Barry sped Oliver to the train station, and then zipped around, pulling every civilian out until it was just them and Harkness.

            “Get on the ground,” Oliver order in his vigilante voice, pointing an arrow at Harkness.

            Harkness just laughed, humorlessly. “Why would I do that?”

            “You hurt a friend of mine,” Oliver replied coldly. “You really think there’s anywhere in the world you can run where we won’t find you?”

            “Probably not,” Harkness conceded. “Which is why I have a contingency in place.” He pulled out a blinking red button. “Five bombs, planted throughout Starling.”

            Oliver gripped his bow harder, and Barry glanced over at him, tensing.

            _Ninety seconds,_ Harkness said. Barry had ninety seconds. Felicity and Cisco spoke into the com. They were figuring out where the bombs were.

            Oliver stood frozen, arrow still aimed at Harkness. As soon as Barry left, he let the arrow fly, and then another, and Harkness knocked both away with his boomerang. He charged at Harkness, dodging the boomerangs and swinging his bow at him.

            _Sixty seconds._ Cisco said the only way to stop the bombs was to defuse all five at the same time. He was fast, but not that fast. _Thirty seconds._ He ran back to the foundry, grabbing Roy, Caitlin, Laurel, and Cisco individually, dropping each of them at a different bomb, leaving Felicity to the computers.

            Oliver managed to get Harkness pinned to a column, tied to it by his neck using one of Oliver’s trick arrows. “Stop the countdown,” he demanded.

            “Go to hell,” Harkness replied.

            _Ten seconds._ They were all in position. “Cut your wires exactly on three,” Cisco instructed.

            Barry sped back to Oliver when it was safe again. “You about ready to finish this?” he asked Oliver.

            Oliver smirked, arrow still aimed at Harkness. “Absolutely.”

\---

            After it was all over, Barry walked into the foundry, seeing Oliver shirtless on the salmon ladder. _It’s like he’s trying to kill me._ Barry let himself linger for a moment before shaking himself out of it.

            “Oliver,” he called. Oliver immediately dropped from the ladder, like he was startled. He turned around, and Barry had to snap his gaze up to Oliver’s eyes.

            “Barry,” Oliver said, a little breathless. He grabbed his shirt from the table, tugging it over his head. “What are you doing here?”

            “Well, the case is over, Harkness in in your prison, Caitlin and Cisco have gone home…” Barry said, pushing his hands into his pockets and walking slowly towards Oliver. “What are you still doing here?”

            “Just trying to get my mind off of things,” he replied.

            “Lyla’s going to be okay,” Barry said.

            “I heard.”

            Barry stopped a few feet in front of Oliver. “So what’s wrong, then?”

            Oliver took a step forward, shortening the distance between him and Barry. It still felt too far. “I’m glad you’re back, Barry.”

            Barry’s breath hitched a moment, his heart beating fast at how close Oliver was. He resisted the urge to run away. “I didn’t go anywhere.”

            Oliver sighed, drawing his eyebrows together. “Yes, you did. I missed you.”

            “I’m sorry,” Barry replied.

            “I know,” Oliver said, smiling. Barry didn’t say anything, so he took another step forward. “Are you ever going to tell me?” he asked, his voice soft. _Just say it, Barry._

            Barry sighed, looking at Oliver, at his rough stubble, at his kind blue eyes, and the crinkle between his eyebrows. “You’re just going to have to accept that you can’t always help, Oliver.” _In fact, right now, you’re making it worse._ “Come on, let’s go home.”

            Oliver hesitated. “Right now?”

            Barry nodded. _Less than a foot away. I could just lean forward. See how he reacts. Maybe._ “Yeah, it’s been a long day,” he said, grabbing Oliver and speeding back to the apartment.

            “Barry, _warn_ me,” Oliver said, but he was laughing. He leaned into Barry’s shoulder, steadying himself, and felt Barry tense and his heart quicken. “Sorry,” he chuckled, pulling away.

            Barry had to take a moment to catch his breath and shake off the nerves. _He really is trying to kill me._ He cleared his throat, running his hands through his hair. “So I think you should start letting Laurel out in the field,” Barry said, hoping to pull attention away from his flushed cheeks. “She’s good.”

            Oliver nodded, pressed his lips together. “Yeah, you two seemed to work well together tonight,” he replied, his voice stiff.

            Barry hesitated, confused by Oliver’s tone. “You alright?”

            “Yeah, of course,” Oliver responded, recovering quickly and smiling. “I’m not really tired, do you feel like watching something?”

            “Sure,” Barry replied with a grin, taking a seat on the couch and turning the TV on.

            Oliver followed, sitting a little closer to Barry than necessary and draping his arms over the back of the couch. They watched something mindless for a little bit, and it didn’t even take half an hour for Barry to fall asleep, ending up leaning into Oliver’s shoulder.

            Oliver smiled at Barry fondly, feeling warm. He shifted on the couch so that they were both lying down, his arm wrapped around Barry’s shoulders, Barry’s head laying on Oliver’s chest. Oliver fell asleep feeling Barry’s heartbeat and gentle breathing against him. _Maybe it could always be this easy._


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arrow 3.09, The Climb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have nothing left to procrastinate. It's kind of messing with my motivation, but at least I have time now.

            Barry blinked awake slowly, yawning. The first thing he noticed was that he wasn’t in his room. _Did I fall asleep on the couch?_ He started leaning up, when he noticed the second thing. Oliver was underneath him, with his arms wrapped around Barry, breathing softly.

            Barry shot up and sped to the other side of the room.

            “Barry, what the hell?” Oliver muttered, leaning up onto his elbows, having been shaken awake by Barry's sudden movement.

            “Sorry, I- I didn’t mean to-” Barry stuttered. _Didn’t mean to fall asleep on your chest? Didn’t mean to wake you up?_

            Oliver sat up, arching one eyebrow. “You alright there, Bar?”

            “Uh… I’m just gonna…” Barry said, gesturing towards the kitchen. “Coffee.” He walked swiftly to the other room, his cheeks burning. He leaned against the counter, breathing deeply to calm himself down. How did that even _happen_? More pressingly, why was Oliver so relaxed about it?

            It hit him. _He knows._ Barry’s stomach turned at the thought. He started making the coffee, heart still beating fast, his shoulders feeling warm where Oliver’s arm had been.

            Oliver watched Barry leave the room, lips quirked up in an amused smile. He rubbed the back of his neck with a sigh. _What is Barry so afraid of here?_ He looked at the door to the kitchen, considering following, telling Barry to relax. _I know, Barry. I know. It’s okay._

He didn’t follow. He wasn’t ready to confront his own feelings, as he imagined was the case for Barry too. What would be the point anyway? Oliver knew that he had to be alone. It hadn’t worked with Laurel, it hadn’t worked with Sara, it hadn’t worked with Felicity. So why would it work with Barry?

            It would probably be best to just ignore it. Better than letting Barry get hurt, anyway. It would be better to let Barry end up with Laurel, or Iris. Oliver knew that Barry deserved someone who had the same light as him.

\---

            They had both opted to not talk about it, to just ignore it as best they could. It was working fine so far.

            Oliver and Barry were in the foundry together after the others had already gone home when Nyssa walked in quietly, full of purpose.

            “Nyssa,” Oliver said, standing up from his chair and crossing his arms. “What are you doing here?”

            Barry jumped up, too, looking alarmed. _This can’t be good._

            “I’m here as a courtesy,” Nyssa said coldly. “The League of Assassins has granted you a certain amount of time to bring Sara’s killer to justice, but you have failed.”

            “We’re doing everything we can,” Oliver replied as evenly as he could, while Barry just glanced between the two of them, worried.

            “You have been distracted protecting the city. You have exhausted my father’s patience.” She gave him a hard look. “Find and deliver Sara’s killer. You have forty-eight hours, or the citizens of Starling will see what the League of Assassins is capable of.”

            “What’s that supposed to mean?” Barry asked, an edge of stress and anxiety in his voice.

            “It means they’re going to slaughter innocent people,” Oliver replied, still maintaining eye contact with Nyssa.

            Barry snapped his gaze over to her. “Nyssa, you can’t do this,” he said, a little desperately. He started to take a step towards her, but Oliver grabbed his arm.

            “We can and we will,” Nyssa responded, glaring. “Deliver Sara’s killer, or blood will flow in your streets.”

            “This isn’t what Sara would want,” Oliver replied.

            Nyssa just pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes. “The dead do not want.” The she turned on her heels and left the foundry.

            Barry made a move to follow her, but Oliver put his palm on Barry’s chest, stopping him. “Don’t, Barry. Please.”

            Barry sighed, glancing over to the exit. “Two days isn’t enough time, Ollie.”

            “We’ll figure something out,” Oliver said gently, though he wasn’t convinced by his own words.

            Barry met his gaze, feeling his heart pounding. “Innocent people are going to die, we have to do something.”

            “We won’t let that happen,” Oliver replied.

            Barry pulled Oliver’s hand off his chest and started walking towards the door again, but Oliver grabbed his wrist.

            “You can’t reason with the League, Barry,” he said softly.

            Barry drew his eyebrows together and his gaze flickered between Oliver and the door. He sighed, his shoulders slumping over, looking hopeless. “How are we supposed to find Sara’s killer in two days?”

            “We need to call the rest of the team in,” Oliver said simply.

\---

            They each got the 911 text, getting to the foundry as fast as possible. Diggle had been at home and had to pull himself away from Lyla and his daughter. Roy was just upstairs in Verdant and ran straight down. Laurel was at her self defense class and cut it short. Felicity arrived last, having been stuck at work with Ray.

 _Two days._ It wasn’t enough time.

            “Caitlin has the DNA sample I pulled from the arrow,” Felicity said, rushing to her computer. “It’s degraded, so it was taking a little bit longer.”

            “We don’t have a little bit longer,” Barry said. He ran his hands through his hair, unable to hide just how scared he was. The stakes were so high. He couldn’t bear the thought of failing this time, it just wasn’t an option.

            “We’re gonna need a contingency plan,” Diggle said.

            “I know,” Oliver said, feeling lost. “I don’t have one.” He tried to keep himself composed, but this was feeling hopeless.

            “I’ll run down to Central City, see if there’s anything Caitlin can do to make it faster,” Barry said, looking at Oliver. Oliver gave him a quick nod, and he sped out of the room.

            It didn’t take long for the results to come through to Felicity, just a few minutes before Barry returned. “Now I just have to run the database from the SCPD,” Felicity said, mostly to herself as she typed. She got a hit and pulled up the picture of the match, and her heart dropped. “No, that- that’s not possible.”

            Barry leaned over and saw Oliver’s face pulled up on the screen. “That has to be a mistake.”

            Laurel paled, looking over at Oliver, bewildered.  

            Oliver walked over, and froze at the sight.

            “Someone must be setting you up,” Barry said, glancing up at him.

            “Someone with an interest in pitting me against the League of Assassins,” Oliver replied, his voice getting cold.

            “There’s only one person I can think of who would have that motivation,” Barry said.

            “Malcolm Merlyn,” Oliver finished.

            “You shouldn’t have let him go last time,” Laurel said, barely bothering to hide the bitterness in her tone.

            Barry shot her a disapproving look. _I’m sure Oliver is blaming himself enough as it is._

            Felicity immediately got to work, looking at databases online from A.R.G.U.S. She searched through all the modes of transportation to and from Corto Maltese, before finding a private plane that flew in a seemingly random pattern before ending up at a private landing strip in Starling City.

            “When did it land here?” Oliver asked warily.

            “The night before Sara was murdered,” Felicity confirmed.

            “Barry,” Oliver said. “You can get there the fastest.”

            Barry nodded, running to the private landing strip to confront the pilot there. Malcolm Merlyn had been there. Barry swiped the security footage, bringing it back to the foundry and giving it to Felicity.

            The video footage showed Malcolm Merlyn getting off the plane the night before Sara died. But it also showed Thea. Oliver felt his stomach drop, and Barry glanced over at him, concerned.

            “Maybe it’s for the best you never told her you were the Arrow,” Felicity noted, wide-eyed.

            “You said Merlyn was keeping his distance from Thea,” Diggle said.

            “He lied,” Oliver replied flatly. He looked visibly shaken. “And so did she.”

            “Maybe it wasn’t your DNA on the Arrow. Maybe it was Thea’s,” Diggle continued.

            “No, it couldn’t have been,” Laurel said, barely audible. She looked like she was going to be sick.

            “DNA results can get familial hits,” Barry added, glancing between Laurel and Oliver. He couldn’t imagine how hard this was for them to hear. “And siblings have a certain amount of overlap.”

            “Are you hearing yourselves?” Oliver replied sharply.

            Barry and Diggle just exchanged a glance.

            “Malcolm Merlyn _is_ her father,” Roy interjected.

            _Thea couldn’t have done this._ Oliver was not willing to entertain the idea. His sister was innocent. The video footage didn’t prove anything. Couldn’t prove anything.

            “Oliver, when I was analyzing Sara’s wounds, it indicated that the archer might have been shorter,” Barry said tentatively. “The findings from the autopsy support this theory.”

            Oliver glared at Barry. _Don’t you dare._ “I don’t have to listen to this.” And then he stalked off, seething.

            Barry sighed, crossing his arms. Laurel walked over to him, tears in her eyes.

            “Do you really think it could be Thea?” she asked, her voice breaking.

            Barry furrowed his brow. “It’s possible. We can’t rule it out.”

            She just brought her hand up to her mouth as tears streamed silently down her face. Barry put an arm around her, letting her cry into his shoulder.  

\---

            Barry went back to the apartment later, looking for Oliver.

            Oliver was on their couch, leaning forward, eyebrows drawn together.

            “I’m sorry about earlier, Ollie,” Barry said, sitting next to him.

            Oliver shook his head. “I asked Thea, flat out, if she came back to Starling a few months ago with Malcolm. She denied it. She lied.” Oliver clenched his jaw for a moment, looking at the floor. “But she couldn’t have killed Sara.”

            “Ollie-” Barry started.

            “No, Barry, don’t,” Oliver interrupted. “You don’t know her. She’s my sister.”

            “We have to be sure, Oliver,” Barry said. “You never know what someone is capable of. And you have a blind spot when it comes to family.”

            “You never believed your father killed your mother,” Oliver retorted.

            “That’s not fair,” Barry said sharply. He resented that Oliver would compare the two situations. “And you know it.”

            Oliver sighed, rubbing the back of his head. He didn’t really mean to bring that up. “I just… I don’t wanna believe that she could’ve done something like this.”

            “I _know,_ Ollie.” Barry replied, running a hand through his hair. “But we have to try to be objective here. Look at the facts.”

            “If it was your family, would you be able to?” Oliver asked, shooting him a glare.

            Barry rested a hand on Oliver’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “Probably not,” he admitted quietly. “But you have the rest of us to be objective for you.”

            “I can’t confront her,” Oliver said quietly. “Not as Oliver Queen, not as the Arrow.”

            “Do you want me to go?” Barry asked. “The Flash might have some luck.”

            “I should do it,” Oliver replied, but he looked like he was dreading the idea.

            Barry rubbed his thumb against Oliver’s shoulder, trying to give him a comforting smile. “Let me, Ollie,” he said. “You shouldn’t have to do this.”

            Oliver hesitated, glancing at Barry, but he nodded. He wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea, but he didn’t want to do it, and Barry was offering.

\---

            Barry sped into Thea’s loft, surprising Thea. She leapt up from where she was sitting, staring wide-eyed at him.

            “Thea Queen,” he said, his voice echoing with the vibrations. He took a few steps towards her, keeping his face disguised. “Where is Malcolm Merlyn?”

            “I don’t know, I swear,” Thea said, taking a few steps back and flicking her gaze around the room.

            Barry started to step forward again, opening his mouth to ask again, when Thea lunged at him, swinging her leg up to kick him in the chest.

            Barry frowned, confused, watching her attack him in slow motion. She knew what she was doing. She’d done this before. He dodged her punches and her kicks, still staring and trying to figure out where she could’ve learned this. Only one explanation kept coming to mind.

            “Stay away from me and my father!” Thea shouted, before swinging herself over the balcony and escaping.

            Barry briefly considered going after her, but he didn’t see a reason to. She wasn’t going to tell him where Merlyn was, and she’d already shown him all he needed to know. He had to get back to Oliver.

\---

            After Barry told him about Thea, Oliver tried to be alone to clear his thoughts when he got paid a visit by Malcolm Merlyn, delivering some very unwelcome news.

            Oliver wanted to kill Merlyn. Desperately. But he couldn’t, not when Merlyn was blackmailing him with this. A video of Thea killing Sara. Proof for the League. Oliver felt sick.

            “I don’t think you want the League to see that,” Merlyn said. “And if you kill me, they will.”

            But it wasn’t really Thea. She was drugged, coerced. She didn’t deliberately kill Sara. But then again, the League wouldn’t care. They only cared about killing the person who did it. They weren’t concerned with the killer’s intentions. It didn’t matter whether Thea meant to. The League wanted her.

            “She fired the arrows,” Malcolm said. Oliver hated the smug look on his face.

            “You’ve given her a death sentence,” Oliver replied, shocked. He wasn’t sure if there was anything that Merlyn wasn’t capable of.

            “No. What I’ve done is given you incentive.”

            “To do what?” Oliver asked through gritted teeth.

            “To tell Ra’s that you killed Sara Lance.” Malcolm said, with a small smile. “You will get a trial by combat with Ra’s. His death will erase any blood debt from his reign. Including Thea’s.”

            “And yours,” Oliver said. Now he understood what this was about. Merlyn was willing to gamble his daughter in order to be protected from the League. It made Oliver’s blood boil.

            “Don’t take too long making up your mind. Ra’s isn’t known for his patience.” And then Malcolm stalked off, leaving Oliver feeling like he’d been stabbed in the chest. So his options were to let the League kill Thea or let the League kill him.

            It wasn’t even a choice.

\---

            Malcolm Merlyn had turned Oliver’s sister into a killer. Oliver had driven Thea to seek refuge with Merlyn, and he had trained her to fight, and then used her to kill. Oliver hated Merlyn more in that moment than he ever had before. Just maybe not quite as much as he hated himself.

            “This isn’t your fault, Oliver,” Barry said softly.

            “Throw Malcolm in front of Ra’s. Let the League sort this out,” Diggle suggested.

            Oliver shook his head. “Merlyn has a video. He made contingencies.” He felt sick. Thea could be killed by the League for this, and she’s at Malcolm’s mercy. Malcolm, who claimed to love her.

            “Oliver, if you fight Ra’s al Ghul, he’ll kill you,” Roy said. Barry felt his throat close up at that.

            “No, he won’t,” Oliver replied calmly, certainty and conviction in his voice. Barry wished he could be that confident, but he only felt his heart just about beating out of his chest.

\---

            Oliver went to meet Nyssa, standing tall and steady. He was doing this for Thea. There was no price to high for her. Oliver wasn’t going to let his sister get killed. She was too important.

            He let Nyssa lead him to her father, feeling the calm washing over him. He was making the right decision, he knew it. There was no doubt in his mind, no hesitation. His life for Thea’s. It was an easy trade.

            “Mr. Queen. You failed to protect the city you love. Now you’ll watch it bleed,” Ra’s said to him.

            Oliver just stared back challengingly, unwavering. “Nobody in my city will die tonight.”

            “Well, there was only one way to prevent that,” Ra’s replied.

            And Oliver did what he’d told Merlyn he would. “It was me,” he said, his voice strong. “I killed Sara.”

            He didn’t flinch. His voice didn’t shake. Not under Nyssa’s accusatory glare, not when a sword was held to his throat.

            “By League law, I have a right to challenge you to a trial by combat.”

            “You covet death that much?” Ra’s looked surprised, almost amused.

            “Do you accept?” Oliver asked simply.

            Ra’s mouth curled into a cold grin.

            Oliver had twelve hours to settle his affairs. Twelve hours to prepare, to say goodbye, to wait. Then he had to face Ra’s. But he wasn’t afraid. Not when he knew what was at stake.

\---

            Oliver was preparing to leave, getting everything in order. Diggle, Felicity, Laurel, and Roy walked into the foundry, looking grim.

            “I have to do this,” he said firmly.

            “I know, Oliver,” Diggle conceded.

            Oliver nodded, appreciative. What else was there to say? He turned to Roy, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Take care of Thea.”

            “Of course,” Roy replied. Oliver put his arms around Roy, hugging him briefly.

            Felicity was next, hugging him closely with tears in her eyes. “It’s not too late to back out,” she said, without hope in her voice. Oliver just gently squeezed her shoulder before turning to Laurel and Diggle.

            “Good luck, Ollie,” she said, giving him a quick hug, pulling away to wipe tears from her cheeks.

            “It’s been an honor working with you, man,” Diggle said, shaking his hand firmly.

            “You, too,” Oliver replied with a warm smile. “Thank you.” He glanced around for a moment, hoping to see the last member of the team.

            That’s when Barry walked in, slowly, with stiff shoulders and his hands in his pockets. His heart dropped as he saw Oliver’s bag. Oliver was going to get himself killed.

            “Will you give us a minute?” Oliver said quietly to the rest of the team. They exchanged looks before walking out, leaving Oliver and Barry alone.

            “So I guess there’s no point in asking you to stay,” Barry said, looking at the floor.

            “You know me well,” Oliver replied.

            “Oliver,” Barry said, his voice pleading. He gazed at Oliver, studying his face.

            “It’ll be fine,” Oliver said, keeping his voice light, not looking at Barry. “I’ll come back.”

            “Not that I don’t have faith in you, Ollie,” Barry said, his voice shaking. “But you can’t promise that.”

            “I have to do this, Barry,” Oliver replied. He was finding it hard to look Barry in the eyes. _Please, don’t make this harder than it already is._

            “No, you don’t,” Barry said. _Please don’t go_. It was a futile attempt, Barry knew it. But he couldn’t bear the thought of Oliver leaving. He couldn’t even think about Oliver not coming back.

            “If it was your family,” Oliver started, turning to him. “Would you do it?”

            “Would you let me?” Barry said softly, leaning against the table, right by Oliver. He stood as close to him as he dared.

            Oliver looked over at Barry with a small smile. “I don’t think I’d be able to stop you.”

            Barry sighed, drawing his eyebrows together. “You’d try, though.”

            “I would,” Oliver admitted, turning back to his bag.

            "Do you always have to just be the hero?" Barry asked. He already knew the answer. Oliver would always sacrifice himself for others, he'd always be the hero. It was why Barry had become the Flash. Why Barry loved him. 

            "I'm not a hero, Barry," Oliver replied. He was just a vigilante, getting justice through violence. Barry was the hero- he'd always been the hero. 

            “Let me come with you,” Barry said, gently touching Oliver’s arm. _I’d follow you anywhere._

            Oliver shook his head, smiling sadly. Barry was too kind for him. “No, you’re needed here.” _You’ll be better off without me._

            “Please, Ollie,” Barry said softly, his voice breaking. “There has to be another way. We have to find another way.”

            Oliver felt a stab in his chest at the crack in Barry’s voice. He didn’t want to hurt Barry, but he had no choice. Oliver reached out carefully, cupping his hand around the back of Barry’s neck. “Why can’t you just let me go?” he said gently, searching Barry’s eyes. _Those kind, warm eyes._

            Barry’s breath caught in his throat. “You know why.” His voice trembled, and he bit the inside of his cheek, holding back tears. “You _know_ , so don’t make me say it.”

            Oliver leaned his forehead into Barry’s, closing his eyes. _I love you, too, Barry._ “I could still win,” he said. “I could still make it back.”

            “You better,” Barry replied, pulling Oliver closer and wrapping his arms around his waist. He pressed himself into Oliver, feeling the warmth of his chest and the steadiness of his heartbeat. Barry didn’t want to imagine living in a world without Oliver Queen.

            Oliver’s heart ached as he felt Barry’s pulse against his chest. For the briefest moment, he wanted to stay. But he couldn’t. He knew it, and Barry knew it, too. Oliver slid his hand up, letting his fingers tangle in Barry’s hair. _I may never get this chance again._

            He tilted his chin up, feeling Barry’s lips brush against his. He hesitated one more moment before pressing his lips against Barry’s, kissing him deeply, desperately. He felt a jolt of electricity as Barry kissed him back, pressing against him and holding him tightly. _I’m sorry._

Oliver pulled away again, looking into Barry’s eyes. His heart broke as he saw the tears slipping through Barry’s eyelashes. He squeezed Barry’s hand, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles, and kissed him gently on the forehead, lingering for a moment as he swallowed his tears.

            Barry barely had the time to process it, before Oliver let go, turning and walking out of the room. He didn’t look back.

            Barry just fell into one of the chairs, folding into himself, unable to stop himself from sobbing. _I love you, Ollie. Please come back._

\---

            Oliver climbed the mountain, determined and confident. He got to the top, ready, feeling the cold wind against his bare chest. Ra’s al Ghul was ruthless, experienced, practically unbeatable. But it didn’t matter, because Oliver knew what he was fighting for. It didn’t matter whether he won or lost, because dying to protect his family was worth it.

            _I had replaced evil with death_ , Ra’s al Ghul told him. Oliver understood. That was just what he intended to do.

            “You have taken your last life,” Oliver said.

            “You have lived your last day,” Ra’s replied. 

            The fight did not last long. Oliver swung, Ra’s dodged. Ra’s had taken one of Oliver’s weapons, sliced his arm, and knocked him to the ground before Oliver had managed to get a single hit in. _I’m going to lose,_ he thought, but he got up, kept lunging, kept trying. Until Ra’s had disarmed him, backed him to the edge of the cliff. _It’s over._

            _Don’t be afraid, my son. Death comes for us all,_ Ra’s said, but Oliver barely heard over the sound of the blood rushing in his ears. And then Oliver felt the sword through his chest, the blood drip from his mouth. Images of his father, his mother, his sister all flashed in his mind. And then Ra’s kicked him backward, off the mountain.

            When he fell, his vision began to blur and all the noises around him sounded far away. In the midst of the piercing pain and the numbing cold, one thought broke through before he slipped out of consciousness- _I should have told Barry I loved him._


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Barry deals with Oliver's absence. There's no canon episode that goes with this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder how many vacation days Barry has used up from his job at the SCPD. Probably a bunch, really.

            Diggle, Laurel, and Roy were still protecting the city, still going after criminals. They ignored the questions- _Where’s the Arrow? Where’s the Flash?_

            _Believe me, we’re waiting for them to show up, too._

            They’d been visited by Merlyn in the first few days of Oliver’s absence. _If he were alive, you would’ve heard from him be now._ Their hope had already dwindled, but it was close to gone at that. They’d just have to assume that Oliver wasn’t coming back, figure out how to manage without him.

            They were in the foundry most nights. Diggle had taken up the challenge of figuring out the computers. Roy had taken up the challenge of analyzing forensic evidence. They made plans together. Laurel was in the foundry often, training with them. She went out in the field with them, too, in Sara’s jacket and mask, since Oliver wasn’t there to stop her.

            The foundry felt too big with only the three of them there. Diggle wasn’t going to give up the mission that Oliver had started. Laurel wasn’t going to stop trying to honor Sara’s memory. And Roy was still hoping that Oliver would come back from the dead, and Felicity and Barry would return.

            It was clumsy, at first. Diggle had a hard time figuring out how to access the city camera’s and the police records, despite Felicity’s extensive instructions. It was complicated, since none of them were particularly interested in staying at the foundry, preferring to go into the field. At the beginning, it was usually Laurel who stayed behind, but as she got more experience and more training, she and Roy switched off, for the most part. A few times, Diggle stayed behind, but he had become the leader with Oliver and Barry gone.

            They tried to maintain some hope that Oliver would come back, but as time went on, it got harder and harder. What was more frustrating was that Felicity and Barry had abandoned them.

            Roy had it rough, having to watch Thea worry about where her brother had gone. _He’s dead, he’s not coming back._ But he couldn’t tell her, not without opening the floodgates of all of Oliver’s secrets. And though Oliver was gone, it was still not Roy’s place to tell her his secrets. If he wanted to take them to the grave with him, that was his decision.

            _Assuming Oliver is dead,_ Roy reminded himself, trying to keep that one sliver of hope alive. Maybe, just maybe, Oliver would come back, and the team would reform. It was possible, if more unlikely as each day passed.

            Diggle was trying his best to balance his family with being the stand-in team leader, but it was hard. It was difficult enough without Oliver, who’d started this whole crusade in the first place, difficult enough feeling like he’d failed to protect Oliver. But Felicity and Barry’s absences did not go unnoticed. Diggle spent several cases thinking about how helpful a hacker and a speedster would be.

            Laurel wasn’t exactly doing well, either. She and her father weren’t exactly seeing eye to eye on her vigilantism. He didn’t quite approve of her following in Sara’s footsteps. She was also still reeling from the realization that Thea had shot the arrows that killed Sara, and that it had been Merlyn who had forced her. Laurel was having a hard time managing her hatred towards Malcolm Merlyn, consider he’d caused the deaths of both Tommy and Sara, and now Oliver’s too. The only way Laurel could compartmentalize was through throwing herself into fighting criminals, really. She needed to get her rage out. She’d lost all three of her oldest friends.

            Felicity had stayed on briefly after Oliver had left, but she quickly decided her heart was no longer in it. She left after Malcolm Merlyn’s visit, finding that Oliver’s presumed death stung too much. She found herself immersing herself in the work at Palmer Technologies, as well as immersing herself in her growing affection for Ray. They were spending a lot of time together, late nights at work, and she was comforted by the distraction. She had yet to miss her vigilante night activities, really. Without Oliver and Barry, she could feel the team falling apart anyway, and she didn’t want to witness that. It hurt. She had quit, and she’d told Diggle it was permanent. She felt guilty, leaving the team, but she just kept telling herself that she’d only joined temporarily in the first place anyway. Besides, Ray seemed to need her, since he had those same heroic ambitions, and much less experience.

            Barry didn’t say whether he was quitting for good. He’d barely said anything. He hadn’t stepped foot in Verdant or the foundry since Oliver left. Laurel had showed up at the police station, and Barry just told her that he didn’t know if or when he’d ever be back, just that he couldn’t do it right then. He needed time. Diggle had tried to speak to Barry, too, and so had Roy, only to get identical answers.

            He just needed time. He didn’t know if he’d ever be the Flash again. Oliver was the reason he’d become the Flash in the first place.

            They’d tried to tell him the city needed the Flash, but he didn’t want to go to the foundry or put on the suit, not without Oliver.

            Roy and Laurel switched off trying to talk to Felicity and Barry, but they were losing their drive. It didn’t seem like the team would ever be whole again, the longer Oliver was gone and the longer Felicity and Barry refused to come back.

            Roy had gone to see Felicity a few more times, even bringing her a set of small paperweights as a gift, but she seemed adamant on staying away. Laurel still tried to check on Barry periodically, seeing how hard he was taking Oliver’s absence. He didn’t seem to be getting any better.

\---

            Barry flipped through case files slowly, letting the work pile up. He could barely concentrate, and it’s not like he wanted to go home anyway. He felt a little pathetic, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was too busy missing Oliver.

            Quentin Lance paused by Barry’s desk. “Allen, could I have a word with you?”

            “Of course, Captain Lance,” Barry replied, setting his work down.

            “A little while ago, you were looking into an old case. I checked to see which file it was. It was Klaus Markos, is that right?” Lance asked, his voice low.

            “Yes,” Barry said hesitantly. “Why do you ask?”

            “Well, it’s just interesting that the very same night you look into that case, the Flash delivers Markos to my office. You know anything about that?” Quentin arched an eyebrow, crossing his arms like he already knew the answer.

            “Captain Lance, I’m not sure what you’re implying.” Barry tried to avoid eye contact.

            “Kid, drop the act. You’re friends with Felicity and Laurel, and they both have connections to the Arrow. The Arrow stopped calling in to ask about evidence a while ago, as though he had a guy who could tell him about the forensics. I put two and two together. I know you work with the Arrow and his team.”

            Barry opened his mouth to respond, but he couldn’t think of what to say, so he just looked away. _I don’t work with the Arrow anymore._

            “Look, kid, I’m not here to get you in trouble. I just thought you might be able to tell me where the Arrow and the Flash went.” His voice was low, concerned. He sounded distressed by their absence. It was almost enough to make Barry feel guilty.

            “I don’t really know,” Barry admitted. It wasn’t exactly a lie. “But I’m not sure if they’re coming back.”

            Quentin furrowed his brow and nodded. “Alright, thanks.” He started to walk away, but he stopped and turned back. “One more thing. Did you know about Sara?”

            Barry nodded. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my place to say anything.”

            Lance just stiffly nodded back. As he walked out of the forensics lab, Laurel was just walking in. “Dad!” she said, surprised.

            “Laurel, sweetie. What are you doing here?” Quentin asked, confused.

            “Oh, I’m here to see Barry, actually.” Laurel gave her father a quick hug in greeting before walking in and pulling an extra chair over to Barry. She put a brown paper bag on the table, smiling. “I brought you Big Belly Burger.”

            Barry raised an eyebrow. “What do you want, Laurel?”

            “Can’t I just bring my friend food with no ulterior motive?” Laurel asked.

            “You could,” Barry agreed. “But did you?”

            Laurel dropped her smile and sighed. “Are you ever coming back to the team?”

            “We’ve been over this. I don’t know,” Barry admitted quietly, looking at the floor. _It hurts too much._

            “It’s not fair that the city loses the Arrow and the Flash all at once,” Laurel replied.

            “They still have Arsenal and the Black Canary,” Barry said pointedly.

            “We miss you in the foundry,” Laurel tried. “And Daniel Brickwell is making moves to take over the Glades. We need all the help we can get.”

            Barry just shook his head. “I’m sorry. Really, I am. It’s bad enough that I have to go home to that empty apartment, with a room full of his things. I told you, I can’t go back to the foundry and I can’t come back to the team. It’s too much.”

            Laurel drew her eyebrows together, looking at him with her big doe eyes. “We all miss him, Barry,” she said softly. But she didn’t press the issue, just giving him a quick hug. “I’ll be back next week to try again,” she said with a smile.

             “Wouldn’t expect anything else,” Barry replied, trying to smile back. As she walked out of the room, Barry brought a hand up to his mouth, feeling the echo of Oliver's lips against his. 

            Barry put off going back home for as long as he could, dawdling around the office, offering to do extra work. He worked as slowly as he realistically could, but eventually, he had no choice. He dragged his feet all the way back to the apartment.

            When he got inside, it felt so quiet and empty. Dishes were piled up in the sink because he couldn’t bring himself to wash them. The pillows from the couch were scattered haphazardly around the room.

            Barry’s heart sank every time he walked through the door, a constant reminder that Oliver was gone and he had no idea if he’d ever come back. Barry couldn’t keep his head up, couldn’t keep his shoulders back. He felt Oliver’s absence like lead in his blood.

            He didn’t want to be awake when he was home. It hurt too much to be conscious in this place, with the ghost of Oliver in every corner. He walked into Oliver’s bedroom instead of his own. He’d been sleeping there since Oliver left, partially in the hopes that he would come back and Barry would be able to know faster, and partially because it was the only way he could feel Oliver with him.

            He crawled into the bed, wrapped in the sheets that still smelled faintly of Oliver’s cologne, and tried to go to sleep.

            At some point in the night, his phone ringing on the bedside table woke him up. His heart leapt in his chest for a brief moment, hoping it could be Oliver.

            “Hello?” he said groggily into the phone.

            “Barry,” Joe’s voice came back. “You told me to call you immediately if there was a sighting of the man in yellow.”

            That woke Barry up. He immediately shot up in bed. “You found him?”

            “He’s taken Iris, Barry,” Joe said, his voice shaking. “And we think that it’s Wells.”

            Barry’s hands got clammy and his heart started pounding. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

\---

            He sped into S.T.A.R. Labs to see Caitlin fidgeting nervously at her desk, Cisco pacing around the lab, and Eddie and Joe standing and talking urgently with their arms crossed. He blew into the room, scattering papers around.

            Eddie’s eyes widened. “You’re…”

            “The Flash, yeah,” Barry finished for him, and then he turned to Joe. “You didn’t tell him?”

            Joe shrugged. “It never came up.” He looked to stressed to elaborate. Truthfully, it hadn’t occurred to him to fill Eddie in with Iris missing. His daughter’s absence was all he could focus on.

            “So, fill me in, what’s happening?” Barry asked, urgently.

            Caitlin and Cisco exchanged a glance. “It might be easier if we just show you,” Cisco said, leading him out of the room.

            Cisco placed his hand on the hallway wall, and Barry watched as the wall came apart, revealing a small, white room. He stepped hesitantly inside, uneasy and afraid, when he saw an empty case for a suit.

            “That had the Reverse Flash’s suit,” Caitlin explained. “Wells took it with him.”

            “The Reverse Flash?” Barry asked, confused.

            “That’s what he calls himself,” Cisco replied, frowning. “Apparently, he has some beef with you from the future.”

            “From the _future?”_ Barry repeated, eyes wide. “Are you saying he time traveled?”

            “I _know_ ,” Cisco said, sounding just as shocked. “Apparently, it's possible for speedsters to travel through time. It’d be cool, if he weren’t evil.”

            Barry just shook his head, trying to process all this. He just wished he could call Oliver. “And he’s taken Iris?” Barry said, his voice small.

            Caitlin put her hand on his shoulders, her lips pressed into a straight line. “We’ll get her back, Barry,” she said.

            “Why would he take her?” Barry asked. He couldn’t lose Iris. He just lost Oliver, he wouldn’t survive it if he lost Iris, too. It was all too much.

            Cisco and Caitlin didn’t reply for a moment, unsure if they should tell him. “He wants you, Barry,” Cisco said, low and grim. “He’s using her to get to you.”

            Barry felt a weight in his chest. He just wanted to hide, collapse. So this was his fault. He took a deep breath, pushing down the desire to fall apart. There was no time for that. Not now. He couldn’t do anything to save Oliver, but he could still save Iris.

            If Wells wanted him, he would go without a fight. Oliver sacrificed himself for Thea, and he’d asked Barry if he’d do the same if it were his family. _Yeah, Ollie. You know I would._

            There wasn’t any time to negotiate, or to try to find another way. Iris was in trouble- she was scared, she could be hurt. Barry’s life for hers. It wasn’t even a choice.

            “How do we contact him?” Barry asked, standing tall. His voice was strong, steady. He wasn’t afraid. He knew what he was doing.

            “He’s already contacted us, he wants to meet,” Caitlin replied, but then she hesitated, seeing the hard look in Barry’s eyes. “Barry, what are you going to do?”

            “I’m going to give him what he wants,” he said, resigned.

            Cisco’s eyes widened. “Barry, you can’t. He’ll kill you. We can find another way to get Iris back.”

            Barry shook his head, pushed his shoulders back. “We can’t risk Iris.” He took a breath, feeling the fear wash away. “I’ve made up my mind. Tell me where to meet him.”

            _If it was your family, would you do it?_

_You’re not here to try to stop me, Ollie._

\---

            Barry was almost ready to leave. He just had to do one thing first. He punched in Laurel’s number.

            “ _Barry?”_ she answered.

            “Laurel,” he replied, sighing a little. “I need to tell you something.”

            “ _Barry, are you okay? What’s going on?”_

Barry clenched his jaw. He wouldn’t say goodbye. Not exactly. “Listen, I got called in to Central City for an emergency.”

            “ _Do you need help? Should the team come down?”_

            “No, Laurel, I need to do this alone. I just… I need you to know that it’s going to be dangerous. There’s a chance I won’t be coming back.” _Make that a guarantee._

            “ _Barry, whatever it is, let us help. Don’t do this alone,”_ Laurel said, her voice getting strained.

            “There’s no time. I just didn’t want to… Without calling you first,” Barry said, unable to quite say it out loud. “Laurel, you’re a really great friend, I-”

            “ _Please, whatever you’re about to do, don’t,”_ Laurel interrupted.

            Barry sighed, rubbing his temple. “Thanks for everything, Laurel.” And then he hung up, without saying goodbye. Laurel called him back, but he didn’t pick up.

            Instead, he punched in Oliver’s number. Just in case. It went to voicemail.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry's face off with Eobard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in next time for what Oliver has been doing this whole time.

            Barry had barely prepared for this. He didn’t wear his Flash suit. He didn’t do anything. He wasn’t trying to protect himself. He just went straight to where Wells had instructed him, in jeans and converse. He wasn’t looking for a fight. He was just looking to save Iris.

            _Is this how you felt, too, Oliver? When you knew you wouldn’t be coming back?_

            “It’s no fun if you don’t fight, Barry,” the Reverse Flash sneered through his voice modifier.

            “You wanted me. Here I am,” Barry replied, standing tall. “Now let Iris go.”

            “Don’t you want to know? Why I killed your mother, why I’m going to kill you?” Wells replied, pulling back his mask and glaring. “Aren’t you _curious_?”

            Barry didn’t answer, just glared ahead. This was the man that haunted his nightmares. This was the man who was the reason Barry’s father was still in jail. This was the man who tore apart Barry’s family, and was now threatening to do it again with his adoptive family.

            “Why didn’t you wear your suit, Flash?” Wells said with a grin. “It’d be more fun to kill the Flash than Barry Allen.”

            “The deal was that I show up and you let Iris go,” Barry replied, his voice steady and cold.

            “You were supposed to marry Iris, you know,” Wells went on, beginning to pace back and forth. “The irony here is that I came back in time to kill you, and then you made choices that will erase my existence altogether.”

            “What are you talking about?” Barry said hesitantly, crossing his arms. He regretted taking the bait almost immediately, but he couldn’t deny how curious he was.

            “You were never supposed to move to Starling City. You were supposed to become Central City’s hero, the scarlet speedster, eventually marrying Iris. You ruined everything, Barry.” Wells stopped pacing, glaring at Barry. “You’ve changed the course of history.”

            “Just by moving to Starling City?” Barry asked, arching one eyebrow.

            Wells laughed. “Just by moving to Starling City. Time is funny like that, isn't it? So fragile.” He took a few threatening steps towards Barry, but Barry didn’t flinch. “You see, my name is Eobard Thawne. I was supposed to be a descendent of Eddie Thawne, before you screwed up the timeline.”

            Barry didn’t reply, just kept his shoulders back and his expression cold. He was only here to save Iris. He was only here to trade his life for hers. He tried to quell his curiosity, telling himself it didn’t matter what he knew or didn’t, because he’d be dead soon enough.

            Eobard took his silence as an invitation to continue his soliloquy. “We hated each other, where I was from. I hated you and everything you stood for, so I became your opposite. Your _reverse_. I came back here to kill your younger self, but I got trapped in the past. And now, because of you, I’ll never get back home. I can feel myself fading from existence.”

            “So why are you bothering with this now?” Barry asked.

            “Well, if I have to die, I might as well take you with me,” Eobard said with a bitter grin. “I don’t have much time left before history catches up to me.”

            “So get it over with, then,” Barry said, taking a step forward. He threw his arms out to the sides, inviting Eobard towards him. “Let Iris go, and take me.”

            Eobard smirked, before speeding away and returning with Iris. She looked shaken, upset, but otherwise unharmed. Barry sped forward and grabbed her, bringing her back to Eddie and Joe before returning.

            “You’re not trying to get away?” Eobard asked, raising an eyebrow.

            Barry just shook his head. “We made a deal. Me for her. So here I am.”

            “You think you’re so brave, don’t you?” Eobard sneered, speeding right up to Barry until they were inches apart.

            Barry didn’t flinch or jump, didn’t move at all. He met Eobard’s gaze easily, keeping the emotion out of his eyes. “Not really.”

            “I’m going to enjoy this,” Eobard said, grabbing Barry by the neck and speeding forward until Barry slammed into a wall.

            Barry groaned as he felt the back of his head hit hard. The pain shot through him, and he felt the dizziness hit. He forced his eyes back open, seeing spots in the corners of his vision.

            Eobard pulled him back and slammed him to the pavement. Barry almost wished he’d worn to suit for extra protection, because he felt the pavement rip through his thin shirt, scraping his back and arms as Eobard dragged him to the side.

            He saw Eobard’s arm pull back, tried to brace himself for the hit. Eobard used all his speed, sending Barry skidding across the pavement, his elbows and palms burning as he tried to bring himself to a stop.

            Eobard sped forward and held Barry’s neck to the ground tightly, barely allowing him to breathe. “Aren’t you going to fight back?” he hissed.

            Barry just glared up at him coldly, trying not to betray how much pain he was in. Eobard pulled him back up by his neck, only to slam him into the ground again.

            Barry involuntarily winced in pain, squeezing his eyes shut.

            He heard Eobard scoff. “Not much of a hero, are you?”

            _Not without Oliver._

            Barry forced his eyes open again, and Eobard was smiling. Still holding Barry down by the neck, he raised his other hand and began vibrating it, bringing it to Barry’s chest.

            “I might be fading, but at least I still get to do this,” Eobard said, his voice low, dangerous. His face twisted into a cruel grin. 

            Then Barry felt Eobard’s hand begin to tear slowly into the center of his chest. It hurt more than anything else Barry had felt, and he yelled out in pain, unable to stop tears from escaping through the corners of his eyes. All he could do was will it to go faster. 

            But then an arrow came out of nowhere and hit Eobard right in the heart. Barry felt the hand pull away and his chest begin gushing blood, felt the hand around his neck loosen. Eobard slipped backward, eyes full of shock before he hit the ground on his back.

            Barry was blacking out from the pain, but he felt his heart quicken with hope as he craned his neck to see where the arrow came from before he lost consciousness. Standing a few feet away, walking towards him, was Roy Harper in his red jacket.

            Barry felt his heart break all over again before he passed out.

\---

            Barry blinked awake slowly, feeling a pounding in his head and an ache in his chest. He groaned, trying to lean up, when he felt a hand on his shoulder stop him.

            “Barry, don’t move, you need to rest more,” Caitlin said sternly. “Wells almost killed you.”

            _He was supposed to._ “What happened?” Barry said.

            “Laurel sent me down here,” Roy said, walking over. “She said you sounded like you were about to do something stupid.”

            “He was,” Caitlin said, shooting Barry a disapproving glare before turning to Roy. “It’s a good thing you showed up when you did.”

            “Yeah, if you’d been a second later, Barry would be dead,” Cisco added.

            “Thanks, Roy,” Barry said softly, giving him a weak smile.

            Roy nodded. “Of course.”

            “What actually happened? Where’s Wells?” Barry asked, frowning. He’d seen the arrow hit Eobard’s chest, but he didn’t know what had happened after that.

            Caitlin furrowed her brow, looking troubled. “We didn’t actually have a chance to see if the arrow killed him… He just… Disappeared.”

            “It was weird, dude,” Cisco said. “It was like he faded from existence.”

            “I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what happened,” Barry said, not elaborating. He’d tell them later, he just didn’t want to get into it just yet.

            “Well, I should get back to Starling,” Roy said, looking right at Barry. “It’s getting chaotic there.”

            Barry ignored his pointed comment. “Before you go… Is there any…” he started, trailing off. He couldn’t bring himself to finish the question. _Is there any news about Oliver?_

            He didn’t need to finish the question anyway. The grim look on Roy’s face told him everything. No one had heard from Oliver. Still. It was becoming less and less likely that they’d ever see or hear from Oliver ever again.

            Would they even be able to have a funeral, with no body and no confirmation?

            Would Barry ever be able to let go of that glimpse of hope that Oliver would someday just walk back in, like nothing had ever happened, like he’d never been gone?

            He briefly wished that Roy hadn’t been there to save him, that he could’ve had the same hero’s death as Oliver- dying in exchange for a loved one. He pushed those feelings away quickly, knowing that they were unreasonable.

            He should be grateful to be alive. He _was_ grateful to be alive. He just didn’t like a world without Oliver.

            _He could still come back_ , Barry briefly thought, but he shook it away. He couldn’t keep holding onto that hope. It hurt too much.

            He turned to Caitlin, wanting to get his mind off of this. “So when will I be good to go back to Starling?” he asked.

            “You have a concussion and a few cracked ribs, in addition to the gash on your chest,” Caitlin told him. “With your healing, it should be just a couple hours before you’re all good.”

            Barry relaxed back into the pillow, sighing. He didn’t want to go home, but he didn’t really want to be here, either.

\---

            Barry stood in Eobard’s Time Vault, as named by Cisco, staring at the future article. _Flash vanishes in crisis._ Written by Iris West-Thawne. He stood with his arms crossed, examining the article intently. He felt like he shouldn’t know this about his future. It seemed wrong somehow.

            He heard footsteps coming in behind him, but he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away.

            “So you’re the Flash,” Iris said softly.

            Barry sighed. “Yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

            Iris walked up to stand next to him, gazing at the article. “It’s okay,” she replied. “I can’t really be mad at the man who saved my life.”

            Barry smiled, glancing over at her. He could remember how he felt about her, how his heart once ached when she smiled and how his pulse quickened when she came into a room. He remembered those feelings, but they weren’t there anymore. There was only the hollow absence. He still loved her, but he wasn’t in love with her. It almost made him sad, to think that those feelings could disappear like that.

            “I think it’s amazing, Barry,” Iris said, turning to him. “What you do, I mean. Using your abilities to save people.”

            “I think you’ve mentioned how you feel about the Flash before,” Barry teased with a grin.

            Iris hit him gently in the arm. “Yeah, but I didn’t know it was _you.”_

            Barry chuckled. “Yeah, there’s that.”

            She looked back at the article, taking a deep breath. “So I guess I marry Eddie, huh?” she said.

            “Looks like it,” Barry replied. He nudged her arm gently. “You like him?”

            Iris dropped her gaze to the floor, smiling warmly. “Yeah, a lot. He, uh, actually asked me to move in with him.”

            “That’s great, Iris,” Barry replied. He was almost surprised at how genuine it was.

            “It is, isn’t it?” Iris said, sounding just a little nervous.

            Barry smiled, feeling sincerely happy for her. He just wanted her to be happy now. The absence of jealousy, of hurt, was almost startling, almost exciting. He had moved away to let go of his love for Iris, and it had worked. But it had been replaced with something that was now far more painful.

            He let go of an unrequited love for his best friend, only to find a love for a man who was now almost certainly dead. How long would it take before _that_ stopped hurting?

            _I don’t think it’ll ever stop hurting,_ Barry admitted to himself.

            “So are you going back up to Starling?” Iris asked. “I’ve been seeing blog articles about how the Flash and the Arrow haven’t been around lately.”

            Barry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn’t want to get into this. “Let’s just say I’ve been taking a break from the vigilante business.”

            “Anything you want to talk about?” Iris said gently, glancing at Barry.

            Barry just hung his head, feeling the loss heavily. “Not really,” he said quietly, his voice breaking a little.

            Iris turned, putting her hand on Barry’s arm. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

            “I can’t,” Barry said, shaking his head. “I just… I can’t talk about it. Not now.”

            “Okay,” Iris said, a little concern in her tone. “I’m here, whenever you decide you want to talk about it.”

            “Thanks,” Barry replied, smiling weakly. This’ll be good, he thought. They can be friends now in a way that they never really could have before. “I, uh… I think I’ll stick around Central City for a few more days.”

            Iris smiled, her face lighting up. “That’s great, Barry. We’ve missed you here.”

            Barry smiled back. He could use this kind of escape.

            But as nice as it was, Central City wasn’t home. The few days Barry spent there were like a vacation, like a dream. He felt calmer, but only because he wasn’t facing reality.

            He didn’t quite feel right in Central City. It was like the air didn’t fit quite right around his skin anymore. He loved this city, with Joe and Iris, and all his memories of growing up. It was full of rose-colored nostalgia, sunny and warm and beautiful. But Barry’s home was Starling City. He cared about that city, wanted to protect it, wanted to make it better. It was where he belonged.

            So after a nice escape in Central City, Barry needed to go back. He needed to go home.

\---

            Barry got the the apartment door, sighing, pressing his hand to it. He didn’t really want to go in. Not really. He didn’t want to feel Oliver’s absence any more than he already did. But he slipped the key in the lock, hearing it click, opening the door.

            He stopped in his tracks in the doorway, dropping his bag and his keys to the floor. His heart beat quickened, his hands began to shake. He could feel tears in the corners of his eyes, and he could barely breathe, like he’d seen a ghost. Because he had. There _he_ was, standing in the middle of the room, broad-shouldered, blue-eyed, _beautiful,_ with a small nervous smile.

            _Oliver._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about the cliffhanger. I'm also sorry that the next chapter will not pick up right after the cliff hanger.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking place Arrow 3.11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oliver vs. the time it takes to recover from life-threatening injuries.  
> He's impatient.

            Oliver felt a pounding in his head as he woke up. He groaned, trying to turn onto his side when he felt sharp pains all over his body. He stopped, wincing. He managed to open his eyes, confused- _This isn’t my room._

            His heart started beating faster as he remembered.

            _I should be dead. Why am I not dead?_

            He found it hard to concentrate on his questions through the blinding, mind-numbing pain. Maybe he was just still in the process of dying, and the world wasn’t considerate enough to let him die quickly.

            _No, this isn’t possible._

            He heard the crackle of a fireplace next to him, but he still felt cold, like ice had set in his bones. He gasped for air, trying to figure out how alive he was.

            “Don’t move,” a woman’s voice said. “You’ll pull out the sutures, Oliver.”

            He turned his head, slowly, painfully. “Tatsu,” he managed to get out. _How did I get here?_ Last Oliver could recall, he was fading, falling from a mountain in the snow. He was meant to be dead. “How?”

            “I asked her to come here,” Maseo replied from across the room. “So she could bring you back to life.”

            _How many times can I cheat death?_ He found his eyelids fluttering again, the pull of exhaustion in his chest. He lost consciousness slowly, his vision fading away. He tried to keep his eyes open, tried to make sense of what was going on, but sleep pulled him away.

            _He was back in the foundry, his bag partially packed, with Barry leaning on the table and trying to catch his eye._

_“Do you always have to be the hero?” Barry said, his soft voice echoing._

_“I’m not a hero, Barry,” Oliver replied. He was vaguely aware of the lack of detail surrounding them, the way the world seemed blurry around Barry. But he wasn’t looking anywhere else._

_“Let me come with you,” Barry said, leaning closer. Oliver could almost feel the warmth radiating from his skin, but it felt muted._

_“No, it’s too dangerous,” Oliver replied. He stared into Barry’s eyes, like it was the last time he ever would. Because maybe it was. He felt a pain in his chest from the thought._

_“But not too dangerous for you?” Barry said, arching an eyebrow challengingly. He took a breath, and his expression softened. “Please, Ollie. There has to be another way.”_

_“There isn’t,” Oliver said, leaning towards Barry, desperately wanting to kiss him. He brought his hand up to Barry’s face, brushing his thumb against his cheek. Barry leaned into Oliver’s touch. “Why can’t you just let me go?”_

_“You know,” Barry replied softly, and his voice sounded so distant, like it was across the world. “You know, so don’t make me say it.”_

_Oliver rested his forehead against Barry’s, closing his eyes. He felt like he’d done this before, in a dream. He pressed his lips into Barry’s, wrapping his arm around Barry’s waist to pull him closer, until they were pressed together. Barry kissed him back, deeply, and Oliver could feel electricity coursing in his skin._

_Oliver pulled away slowly, barely, only leaving an inch or two between them. “I love you,” he breathed, feeling tears well up._

_“Then stay,” Barry replied, softly, gently. He laced his fingers into Oliver’s. “I love you, too. Don’t go.”_

_“Okay,” Oliver replied, unable to keep himself from smiling. Maybe he could have this. Maybe he didn’t have to be the vigilante, maybe he could be Oliver Queen, not the Arrow. Maybe he could be happy with Barry._

_“Yeah?” Barry replied, pulling away to look into Oliver’s eyes._

_Oliver saw the brightness there, the joy that sparked. He felt Barry’s optimism, his light. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve that sort of kind, loving gaze from someone like Barry Allen, but for once, he didn’t question it. “I’ll stay for as long as you’ll have me, Barry.”_

_Barry’s eyes changed, suddenly, full of horror. He stepped backwards, quickly, stumbling. “Ollie,” he said, his eyes wide, his hands shaking._

_Oliver frowned, confused, until he felt the sharp, burning pain in his chest. And then Barry was gone, and all Oliver could see was the sword sticking out of his chest, and the blood dripping from his mouth to the floor._

He gasped awake, his eyes snapping open. He was breathing hard, his hands sweating. _It was only a nightmare_ , he told himself, until it occurred to him that it wasn’t, not really.

            Reality was worse than the nightmare, he realized. He hadn’t told Barry he loved him. And he had died, as far as everyone but he and the two people who rescued him knew.

            How long had he been gone? They must think he’s dead. They would’ve taken a lack of communication as a sign that he was gone. _Barry thinks I’m dead. Everyone thinks I’m dead._

            He leaned up, as quickly as he could through the pain, pushing his legs over the side of the cot. His arm was wrapped, along with his abdomen. He could feel the injuries begging him to lie back down, but he’d learned to ignore pain a long time ago.

            Oliver pushed himself to his feet, groaning, grabbing onto the wall. He limped, grabbing whatever he could lean on, wincing at each step. He couldn’t let this stop him. He had to get home.

            “Oliver,” Tatsu said, surprised to see him up. She made her way over to him, handing him a cup. “Drink this.”

            “More herbs?” he asked, taking it.

            “Penicillin,” she replied. “For the infection.”

            “You saved my life,” he said, the gratitude evident in his voice.

            “The snow and cold helped,” she said. “And your will to live. You should be dead.”

            Oliver glanced away, towards the wall. He should be dead. He knew that. But then again, he should’ve been dead a long time ago. He should’ve died in the shipwreck, and then on the island, and then as the Arrow. He should be dead a hundred times over.

            “Did you know Maseo would bring me here?” he asked.

            “He was the one who told me to meet you at the cabin,” Tatsu replied.

            “I didn’t realize the two of you were still in contact,” he said.

            “We are not,” she replied. She had no time to elaborate, because Maseo came back inside, holding firewood. Oliver could hear the sound of the storm behind him.

            “Maseo,” he called.

            “You’re in no condition to stand,” Maseo said, his voice flat.

            “Then help me,” Oliver replied, holding out his arm. Maseo let him lean on his shoulder, bringing Oliver over to sit back down. “I’m glad you stayed.”

            “Then you’ll be disappointed,” he replied, beginning to turn away. “I’m going back after the storm.”           

            “If Ra’s finds out you saved me, he’ll kill you.” Oliver furrowed his brow, concerned for his old friend.

            Maseo looked at Oliver, expressionless. “Don’t waste your breath or worries on me. Your concern should be for your home, and what has become of it in your absence.”

            Oliver felt his blood go cold, his heart start racing. How long had he been out already? How long until he could go back? He couldn’t move without wincing. He felt raw, drained.

_What has become of it in your absence._

            That’s what made the panic set in. The words felt heavy on Oliver's shoulder. It didn’t matter to him how much he hurt, how close he’d gotten to death. He needed to get back to Starling. He needed to make sure that everything was okay. He couldn’t let anything happen because of this.

            His mind kept circling back to Barry, how Barry had looked at him before he’d left the foundry, for what they thought could be the last time. Tears in his eyes, broken, asking Oliver to stay. It was enough to make Oliver’s heart ache.

            As Oliver drank the tea that Tatsu gave him and spoke to her about Maseo’s fate, he felt himself falling. Maseo, his old friend, had given himself to the League of Assassins due to his grief over his son. Tatsu barely seemed to see him as the Maseo she loved anymore.

            “It wasn’t his fault,” Oliver said.

            “The line between grief and guilt is a thin one,” Tatsu replied, looking at the floor with regret and hurt in her eyes. “Sometimes, death is preferable to the agony of life.”

            Oliver stared into the cup in his hands as she got up and walked away. He was all too familiar with that feeling, from his years on the island to his mission when he first got back. He knew the urge to die, to kill oneself through becoming someone new. Maseo joined the League, and Oliver became the vigilante. He had struggled with giving up his identity as Oliver Queen before.

            Those feelings, that urge to disappear, they felt more distant than Oliver had been accustomed to for so many years. He had those lingering thoughts, those passing feelings, that doubt, but it wasn’t consuming him anymore. He didn't feel quite as empty or lost.

            Barry had grounded him, brought him back. He’d given Oliver hope that there was more to life. For a moment, for a glimpse, Oliver had felt that it could be easier, better. That he could be happy. And Barry had given him that, even if it was fleeting.

            _I need to get home._

But when he got home, what then? Oliver didn’t know if he’d changed his mind about needing to be alone. He still stood by what he’d told Felicity, and then what he’d told Carrie Cutter.

            _I thought that I could be me and the Arrow, but I can’t. Not now. Maybe not ever._

_I know what it’s like to want someone, but not be able to be with them. How you wish things could be different, but they can’t._

_I can’t be with anyone. I have to be alone._

Oliver’s own words echoed through his mind. Nothing had changed since he’d said those things, not really. That night he’d spent on the couch, holding Barry, it had seemed like life could be easy. But that was just a fantasy. It would never be simple. Not for Oliver.

            And then the storm died down, the whistling winds calming. And Maseo was getting ready to return to the League.

            “You don’t have to leave,” Oliver told him. “You can still have a life.”

            “Why do you assume I want one?” Maseo replied coldly, heading for the door.

            Oliver felt an ache in his chest. “Because I know you, and this isn’t who you are.”

            He watched Tatsu make her way over to Maseo. “I love you,” she said, leaning towards him. “No matter who you think you’ve become.”

            Oliver turned away, feeling lost and empty. He couldn’t look at Maseo without considering what he himself had become, too.

            He didn’t have much time to dwell when they realized that the League had found them. Oliver had to hide, feeling useless from his injuries, leaving Tatsu and Maseo to be the ones to kill the League members who came in to find them.

            Maseo had to get rid of the bodies.

            “I get that you wanted to go back before, but that was before,” Oliver said when he’d returned. He could hardly go back to the League now, Oliver thought, maybe optimistically. “You could come back to Starling City with me.”

            Though Oliver was wrong, evidently. Maseo pulled away, didn’t look at him. He left, back into the snow, back to the League. Oliver couldn’t stop him.

            _A man cannot live by two names._


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arrow 3.12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oliver loves dramatic entrances.

             Once he could walk without wincing and groaning, Oliver was itching to leave more than ever. He just wanted to get home. He walked quietly towards the door, barely even touching the doorknob.

            “Are you trying to kill yourself?” Tatsu’s voice came from behind him.

            Oliver sighed, dropping his hand and turning to her. “I have to get back.”

            “You have to rest,” Tatsu retorted. “I suppose you planned to leave without telling me.”

            “Well, I knew that you wouldn’t approve,” Oliver replied. “You saved my life. Thank you.”

            “Maseo saved it,” she corrected. “I merely treated you. And you’re going to undo all that work if you try to leave now.”

            “I can’t stay here any longer,” Oliver insisted, with a sad smile. “My sister, my city…” _Barry._

            “Will mourn your passing, I’m sure,” Tatsu finished for him. Oliver didn't feel comforted by that.  _They should know I'm alive._

            “If you are so concerned, just come with me,” Oliver said, though he didn’t expect her to take him up on it. “You can make sure I drink my penicillin tea.”

            “Like Maseo, I’ve disappeared from the world. I have no desire to return.” She pursed her lips together briefly, swallowing.

            “Tatsu…” Oliver sighed.

            “Be well, Oliver,” Tatsu said with a kind smile.

            Oliver turned away slowly, heading back for the door. There was nothing he could do for Maseo and Tatsu, not anymore. He was just grateful that they’d been able to save him. But now, he couldn’t afford to rest and heal slowly. He didn’t have time.

            He looked back at Tatsu one last time before walking out into the snow.

            He walked for a while, stumbling, breathing heavily. He knew he was in no shape to get back, but his determination and his pride weren’t going to let him stop.

            He got past the snow, into the fallen leaves and the towering trees, before he had to stop. He leaned into a tree, gasping and coughing, each breath causing sharp pains in his chest and stomach. He heard rustling behind him, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.

            “If you wanna tell me ‘I told you so,’ how about you say it in person?” he called out. He looked over to see Tatsu stepping out of the shadows.

            He let her have him stay on the ground, leaning against a tree, as she built a fire. She started to check his wounds and his bandages, and he watched her carefully examine them.

            “What changed your mind?” he asked.

            “I’ve been to enough funerals,” she said.

            “So help me.”

            “That isn’t what I have been doing?”

            Oliver sighed. “The man that Maseo serves, when he finds out that I’m alive… He’s going to come for me and my sister.”

            “Ra’s al Ghul,” Tatsu said knowingly.

            Oliver nodded. “He fights with swords. And he’s good.” He looked up at her. “I seem to remember you being pretty good with a blade yourself.”

            “Mastery of swords is more than mastery of technique. To defeat this man, you must think like him, be like him. You must fight in the ways he does. Your only hope for such a teacher was Maseo.” She paused for a brief moment. “Only the student has hope of defeating the master.”

            Oliver narrowed his eyes, considering this. The student of Ra's al Ghul. It was an interesting thought, anyway. 

\---

            He hitched a ride on the back of a truck to get to the airport. It was going to be a trek to get back to Starling City. Tatsu gave him a small brown bag with his medicine, instructing him to apply it twice a day. He still wasn’t healed. He didn’t know when he would be.

            “Would you come with me?” Oliver asked as she turned away. He couldn’t bear the thought of his friend living in the mountains, alone in her grief.

            “So I can watch you die at the hands of Maseo’s master?” she replied, dismissive.

            “I do not intend to die,” Oliver replied. _Not again, anyway._

            “There are many forms of death,” Tatsu told him, her voice sad. “To defeat a man like this Ra’s al Ghul, you must be willing not just to die but to live knowing what you had to sacrifice in order to beat him.”

            “And what will that be?” Oliver already suspected he knew. He’d have to sacrifice his humanity, his chance at normalcy. But he'd given up so much of that already. 

            “I don’t know,” Tatsu replied. “That is what you will have to discover. But it will be whatever you hold most precious.”

            Oliver nodded slowly, aching. _Whatever I hold most precious._ His sister, his team, his ethics. His home. Barry. It could be so many things. All this really told him is that he would have to remain distant, keep himself closed off. It was, as always, the best way to protect those he loved. Keep them at arms length, always.

            He hugged Tatsu goodbye, grateful to have seen her and sad to watch her retreat back into her grief. He climbed onto the back of the truck. _Time to go home._

            Maybe Oliver could never have any normalcy in his life. Maybe he was destined to have to be willing to do the unthinkable in order to protect everyone. Maybe he had to succumb to the darkness so that others could maintain their light. Everyone had a role to play. Maybe this was Oliver’s. Defeat Ra’s al Ghul, any means necessary. Sacrifice a life he could've had, a dream he quietly wished for. Give up his hope.       

\---

            The first time Oliver came back from the dead, he’d been gone five years. There was a flurry of media, paparazzi. His mother and sister and Tommy were there to greet him, welcome him home. The prodigal son returned. The billionaire’s son, the known partier, the college dropout, the cheater. Oliver Queen was back. He’d been famous for being the billionaire’s slacker son, and then he was famous for having returned from the dead. Five long years.

            The second time Oliver came back from the dead, there were no fireworks, no confetti. He came back quietly, to a city that had noticed the Arrow’s absence but not Oliver Queen’s. He wandered back into the city, feeling eerily like when he’d come back the first time. Just a few weeks, but it felt so much longer.

            He came back as the Arrow rather than as Oliver, right in the middle of the chaos, to Roy and Laurel and the Glades all fighting against Daniel Brickwell, the newest lowlife. Oliver saw the fray from the roof of a building, the chaotic whirlwind of the riot. He shot an arrow at a man who was fighting Roy, before following Malcolm Merlyn and seeing him ready to kill Brickwell.

            “Don’t do it,” Oliver called out.

            “You’re too late,” Merlyn replied, his voice strained with emotion.

            “Drop the gun,” Oliver said firmly. “No more death.”

            “That’s easy for you say,” Merlyn retorted. “You just returned from the grave.”

            “Killing him won’t balance the scales,” Oliver said, taking a few cautious steps forward.

            “When you have killed five hundred and three people, including your own son, you tend not to worry about scales. And don’t tell me it won’t stop the pain and it won’t bring her back because you don’t _understand_ ,” Merlyn shot back, his voice getting sharper as he went on. “If I had taken care of him back then, it could all be different. The League, the Undertaking, Tommy… Every choice I have made since my wife died.”

            Oliver clenched his jaw, feeling all too understanding of Merlyn’s words. “Then you make a different choice now,” he replied. “For Thea.”

            “Thea will never forgive me,” Merlyn said.

            “Start giving her reasons to,” Oliver replied.

            Miraculously, Malcolm listened. Oliver was able to get Brickwell to the police. The police were able to return to the Glades, go back to protecting the citizens of Starling. Oliver vowed to the people to not leave the city again, to continue protecting them, too. One person called out from the crowd and asked, _What about the Flash?_

            Oliver didn’t answer as he left to scene, pulled away by one of his trick arrows. His heart sank at the question. Now, he knew what the city had endured without him, what had become of it in his absence. What had become of Barry?

            First, he went to find his sister, assuring her that he was alright. Malcolm Merlyn was there, acting as though he was Thea’s father and not the man who almost had her killed.

            But Oliver couldn’t think about that, couldn’t give in to his anger. He needed to kill Ra’s al Ghul before it was too late, and he needed Merlyn to train him. It was his only hope. _Only the student has hope of defeating the master._

            After seeing Thea and Merlyn, Oliver went back to the foundry, greeted by the team. The team without Felicity or Barry, that is.

            “Sorry I didn’t come by sooner,” Oliver said softly, somewhat sheepishly. “I needed to check in on Thea.”

            “Ollie,” Laurel said, throwing her arms around him, teary eyed. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

            He hugged her back, let out a short laugh. “Yeah, me too.”

            Diggle clapped a hand onto his shoulder. “Merlyn told us you were killed.”

            “I was close,” Oliver admitted. “I’m sorry I didn’t check in sooner. I wasn’t exactly in a cell-service area.”

            He shook Diggle’s hand and Roy gave him a quick hug, thanking them for looking after the city in his absence. It was all smiles and warmth for a brief moment.

            “Where are Barry and Felicity?” Oliver asked after they were through, his voice low.

            The team exchanged glances, looking a little uncomfortable.

            Diggle sighed. “They haven’t been around much.” He opened his mouth to explain further, but he was interrupted by the sound of heels clicking down the stairs.

            “Oliver!” Felicity said, running over to him, her blond ponytail bouncing. She hugged him tightly, her eyes shiny. “I came as soon as I heard that Arrow was back in town. I’m so glad you’re okay!” She paused. “Well, alive, at least. I don’t know if you’re okay. Are you okay?”

            Oliver chuckled, comforted by her babbling. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

            “So are you coming back?” Roy asked Felicity, shooting her a meaningful look.

            Felicity smiled, glancing nervously at Oliver. “I might be.”

            Oliver smiled back at her, not feeling like questioning why she’d been gone. He knew why, anyway. They all thought he was dead. Presumably, they made decisions accordingly. He couldn't fault them for that. 

            “So... Where’s Barry, then?” he asked carefully, glancing around the room, half-expecting a gust of wind to greet him.

            “He’s in Central City right now,” Roy said, furrowing his brow. “He had, uh, some things to deal with there.”

            “Oh,” was all Oliver could say. _I just need to see Barry._

            “He almost got himself killed,” Laurel added, exchanging a glance with Roy. “He would’ve died if Roy hadn’t gone to check on him.”

            “What?” Oliver said, furrowing his brow in confusion.

            “Caitlin and Cisco filled me in on what happened,” Roy began to explain. “There was another speedster who’d kidnapped Iris. He was demanding Barry’s life for hers.”

            “And of course, Barry did it,” Oliver said with a sigh.  _Barry, ever the hero._ Oliver felt his chest tighten at the thought of coming back from the dead to a world without Barry. He'd gotten too close to that possibility. Barry could've died believing Oliver had died, too. Oliver could've had to return to their apartment they shared, alone, met only by the ghost and the memory of Barry. His heart hurt at the mere idea.

            “Well, so did you,” Roy pointed out.  _That was different,_ Oliver told himself, but even he couldn't convince himself of that. 

\---

            He got back to the apartment late, and his heart ached at the state of it. Barry must've really been hurting. The place was a mess, with unwashed dishes and pizza boxes and clothes strewn around. It looked like Barry had given up. 

            Oliver began cleaning the place, washing the dishes and wiping down the counters, bringing the trash out. He brought the clothes back to Barry’s room, laying them over the desk chair, before he fell onto the bed. Onto Barry's bed, feeling the soft comforter against his skin. 

            He stared up at the ceiling. A few weeks. He’d been gone a few weeks. He wished he could’ve found a way to force himself to come back sooner. Barry must have thought he was dead. He could see the grief hanging in the apartment.  _He was grieving for me._

            Oliver pulled himself back up, resting a hand gently on the bed for a moment, running his thumb of it like it was Barry's hand. _I’m sorry, Barry._

            He walked back into the living room, and then stopped in his tracks when he heard it. The key clicking into the lock. The doorknob turning. And then there _he_ was, with his soft hair and his kind eyes and his brightness.

            Oliver watched him as he stopped in the doorway, mouth slightly open, with a gasp. His eyes widened and his bag and keys dropped to the floor. Oliver smiled, a little anxious, his heart beating fast. 

            _Barry._


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking place Arrow 3.13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me just formally apologize for using the same cliffhanger twice.  
> To be fair, I'm really just trying to torture myself with the anticipation.

            _Is this real?_

            “Oliver,” Barry breathed, making his way across the room. “How-” He didn’t finish the question, just wrapping his arms around Oliver and holding him tightly. _It doesn’t matter how- he’s here._ Barry felt tears stinging his eyes, breathless as he buried his face into Oliver’s shoulder.

            Barry felt Oliver wince, and he pulled back quickly, keeping his hands on Oliver’s waist. “I’m sorry, are you okay?” he said quickly. _He’s hurt._

            Oliver chuckled softly. “I’m fine, Bar. It’s alright.” He reached his hand up to Barry’s face, gently brushing aside the tears with his thumb. _I’m here, Barry. It’s okay._

            “I can’t believe you’re really here,” Barry said quietly, staring desperately into Oliver’s eyes, as though if he looked away, Oliver would disappear again. He let his gaze flick down to Oliver’s mouth, seeing his lips quirked up in a small smile. Before Barry could think better of it, he leaned forward, pressing his lips into Oliver’s, bringing a hand up to Oliver’s neck.

            Oliver stiffened in surprise for a moment, unsure.

            Barry started to pull away, noticing his hesitation. He barely got an inch away before Oliver pulled him back, desperately kissing him in return.

            Oliver turned and pushed Barry into the wall, pressing hard against him, ignoring the aching pain from his injuries. Barry let out a surprised grunt, melting into Oliver’s touch. He slid his hands around Oliver’s lower back, pulling him closer.

            Barry felt light-headed. He was barely sure this was real. After weeks of believing Oliver was dead, here he was, like he’d never left. And here he was, kissing Barry, like this was normal. Barry never wanted it to end.

            But Oliver pulled away, resting his head against the wall by Barry’s face, breathing hard. Barry was pinned between the wall and Oliver’s weight, breathless and confused.

            “Barry,” Oliver exhaled. He pressed his hand against Barry’s waist, his fingers just barely touching Barry’s skin where his shirt had ridden up. _How am I supposed to stay away from him?_

            Barry felt a shiver run down his spine from the low vibrations of Oliver’s voice and the warmth of Oliver’s breath against his neck.

            “Ollie,” Barry breathed back. He leaned his face into Oliver’s shoulder, feeling Oliver’s pulse against him. “I thought you were dead.”

            “I should be,” Oliver replied softly.

            “What happened?” Barry asked.

            Oliver pushed himself off of Barry, barely able to tear himself away. He walked over to the couch and sat down, inhaling sharply at an ache in his abdomen. “He won,” Oliver said simply.

            Barry followed him to the couch, sitting so that his leg was touching Oliver’s. “How did you survive?”

            “An old friend saved me,” Oliver replied. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “But Ra’s will come for me once he finds out I’m still alive. And then he’ll come for Thea.”

            Barry felt his heart beat faster. _No, but I just got you back._ “We won’t let that happen,” he replied, his voice low. _I won’t lose you again._

            Oliver shot Barry a small smile. “It’s okay, Barry. I’ll be ready.”

            “So what’s the plan?” Barry asked.

            Oliver took a breath. “Merlyn and I are working on that.”

            Barry stiffened, raised his eyebrows. “Merlyn? You mean the guy that got you into this in the first place?”

            “I need to know how to defeat Ra’s. He’s the only one who can help me,” Oliver replied, avoiding Barry’s accusatory stare.

            “There must be a better way,” Barry insisted.

            Oliver shook his head. “There isn’t.”

            “We’re supposed to be better than that, Ollie,” Barry said softly, leaning over to catch Oliver’s eye.

            “No, you’re the one that’s better than that, Bar,” Oliver said with a small smile. He shot Barry a look out of the corner of his eye. “You know, Roy told me about the week you’ve had.”

            Barry let out a nervous chuckle. “How much did he say about that?”

            “Enough. You could’ve died, Barry,” Oliver said softly.

            “I hope you’re not planning on lecturing me about being reckless, because that’d be incredibly hypocritical,” Barry replied, a little defensive.

            Oliver smiled and shook his head. “No lectures. I’m just… Glad you’re okay.” _I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t._

            Barry smiled back, sighing. “I’m glad you are, too,” he said, looking at Oliver with glassy eyes. “You’re _here._ ”

            “Yeah,” Oliver breathed, slipping his hand into Barry’s.

            Barry leaned his head onto Oliver’s shoulder, hiding the tears that were still falling. “I thought…” he said, his voice breaking a little. _I thought I’d never see you again._

            “I know, Barry,” Oliver replied, pressing his lips to Barry’s hair. “I know.”

            Barry heart beat hard in his chest. He could feel his pulse in his wrists. His breath hitched for a moment as he tried to get up the nerve to just _say it._ He squeezed Oliver’s hand. _I love you, Ollie._

            Oliver closed his eyes tightly, feeling Barry’s warmth against him. His heart hurt, thinking about what he had decided while he was gone, what he already knew. This couldn’t work. It would never be easy; it would never be simple. But in that moment, he wanted so badly to abandon his convictions. _I love you, Barry._  

            They stayed there together, not speaking. They ended up falling asleep on the couch together, tangled up in each other, breathing perfectly in sync.

\---

            Oliver and Barry hadn’t discussed either kiss, the one before Oliver left or the one right after he got back. Neither of them brought it up, for slightly different reasons. Barry was still afraid to confess his feelings and be rejected or lose Oliver as a friend. Oliver was still grappling with his decision to remain alone, and didn’t want to have to tell Barry that, for fear of hurting him, or losing him.

            Barry and Felicity both rejoined the team at Oliver’s return, and the city was relaxing again now that the Arrow and the Flash had returned. It was like a light had returned, and Oliver attributed that to Barry more than himself.

            In the foundry, Oliver, Barry, and Roy returned to find Felicity and Diggle looking somewhat tense.

            “You have a visitor,” Felicity said, glaring disapprovingly at Oliver.

            Barry glanced at Oliver, first questioningly then accusingly once Malcolm Merlyn walked into the light.

            “What do you want?” Oliver asked, crossing him arms.

            “It’s been a week since your return,” Merlyn said, his tone professional. “I thought it past time we spoke. I would imagine that Ra’s al Ghul didn’t miss your televised return to Starling City.”

            “Your point, Malcolm?” Oliver said coldly. Barry just felt his stomach turn at the mention of Ra’s. He was still hoping that would just disappear.

            “We can’t merely wait for Ra’s to mobilize his forces,” Merlyn said. “It’s time to bring Thea into the fold.”

            Oliver sighed, frustrated. He knew he should’ve told Thea his secret a long time ago, but he still didn’t feel ready. Maybe he never would.

            “If we are to protect Thea, and defeat the League, the three of us need to join forces,” Merlyn continued.

            “That’s rich, coming from you,” Barry couldn’t help but interject, glaring at Merlyn. “Thea and Oliver wouldn’t be in danger from the League if it weren’t for you.”

            Malcolm shot Barry a hard look, but ignored his pointed comment. “She needs to know who you are, Oliver.” He turned, stalking out of the room.

            Barry glanced at Oliver, who looked pained. “Far be it for me to agree with that guy, but it’s probably about time Thea knew the truth.”

            “I don’t know,” Diggle said, crossing his arms. “If Thea finds out you’ve been lying to her all this time, you could lose her forever.”

            “The longer you lie, the harder it’ll be. She’s smart, she’ll find out eventually no matter what you do,” Barry replies softly. “She deserves to know her own brother, Ollie.”

            Oliver furrowed his brow, not looking at either of them. They were both right, really. She might hate him, but she still deserved the truth.

\---

            Oliver walked hesitantly into Verdant, seeing his sister standing by the stairs. “Hey, Speedy,” he said, walking over and giving her a hug.

            “Ollie!” she said, smiling. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

            He tried to smile, but his nerves were getting the best of him.

            “What is it?” Thea asked, noticing his stiff expression.

            He took a breath. He just had to do it. “I have to show you something.”

            Oliver led her towards the stairs down to the Arrow Cave, keeping his head up and his shoulders back. He didn’t answer any of her questions, nor did he respond to her comments. He just had to show her, and she’d see, and she would react however she’d react.

            “Ollie, what’s going on?” she asked as they walked down the stairs in the dark. “You’re kind of making me nervous.”

            Oliver didn’t answer. He just clenched his jaw and flicked the lights on, revealing all the computers and the arrows. The evidence of who he was and what he’d done. He took a breath, studying her face, watching the realization and awe wash over her expression.

            “You’re…” she said, reaching the case with Oliver’s hood and his bow. “You’re him.”

            “Yeah,” he said, following her slowly, trying to gauge her tone.

            “All those times I got so mad at you for being a flake…” she said softly. “Telling me something I knew that had to be a lie…”

            Oliver felt his heartbeat quicken as he bit the inside of his lip nervously. He shifted his weight from side to side. _Here it comes. She’s gonna hate me._

            “You were saving someone’s life,” Thea continued, turning to face Oliver. He felt his throat tighten. “Thank you,” she breathed, wrapping her arms around Oliver.

            A little taken aback, he returned her hug, tears springing in his eyes. They stayed like that for a while, before going back to Thea’s loft to continue the conversation.  

            “Do you know how many times I’ve wished I could thank the Arrow for things he’s done for this city?” Thea said with a kind smile.

            “Probably as many times as I’ve wished we could have this conversation,” Oliver replied, relieved.

            “Did Mom know?” she asked.

            “The night that she died, she told me that she’d known for a while,” he told her.

            “So Malcolm-” she started.

            “We know about each other.”

            “Wait, Malcolm knows that you’re the Arrow?” she said, shifting forward.

            “I am amazed that he didn’t tell you,” Oliver replied.

            “So why did you tell me?” Thea asked. “Why now?”

            He took a deep breath. “Because Ra’s al Ghul is coming for us. All of us. And the three of us have to work together.

\---

            Laurel walked briskly into the foundry, looking distressed. Barry jumped up out of his chair. “What happened?” he asked.

            “Werner Zytle escaped custody,” she said.

            “Vertigo?” Diggle said, immediately pulling out his phone. “I’ll call Oliver.”

            Barry didn’t wait for him to finish, just ran and got Oliver, bringing him back to the foundry as fast as possible.

            Oliver stumbled a little, shooting Barry a slight glare. “So what’s going on?” he asked, regaining composure.

            Laurel recounted what she saw, how the federal marshal guarding Zytle just began shooting, seeming out of his mind. After she’d stopped him, Zytle had disappeared.

            “That’s pretty convenient,” Roy noted. “Guy decides to wig out, and Zytle takes advantage.”

            “It was planned,” Oliver said, his voice sure. “Those are the effects of his Vertigo.”

            “Zytle was in full restraints,” Diggle said. “How did he manage to dose a federal agent?”

            “He didn’t,” Laurel replied. “One of the reporters did.”

            “She’s right,” Felicity said, zooming in to the footage of the incident, revealing a reporter with a needle.

            “We need a name-” Oliver started.

            “And an address, I’m on it,” Felicity replied. It didn’t take her long to track down the reporter’s work address.

            Barry and Oliver left as soon as she got the address out, the job of intel gathering usually falling on them.

            “Anthony Walker,” Barry said, his voice confident after he sped into the office, Oliver standing in the doorway. “Can you tell me where Werner Zytle is?”

            “He’s not here,” Walker said, his voice strained.

            “You helped him escape today,” Oliver growled from the door.

            “Zytle threatened my wife,” he said, directing it to Barry. His voice shook, and Barry could see the shine of sweat on his face. “Said he could get to her, that he’d kill her if I didn’t do this.”

            Barry took a few careful steps forward, holding his hands up, smiling disarmingly. “Hey, relax,” he said, his voice soothing. “Do what?”

            The reporter looked distressed, maybe even sorry. He opened his jacket to reveal a bomb strapped to his chest. “Kill the Arrow,” he said.

            “Anthony,” Barry said softly, taking another step forward. “Listen, it’s okay. Just give me the detonator and we can figure this out.”

            “He’ll kill my wife,” Walker said, his voice breaking.

            “We won’t let that happen,” Barry said, his voice sincere. “I promise. We’ll protect her. Just give me the detonator.”

            “God forgive me,” Walker whispered, closing his eyes and beginning to press his thumb towards the button.

            Barry acted fast, zipping forward and pulling the bomb off of Walker before it could go off, and speeding both Walker and Oliver out of the building before the explosion.

            Walker looked alarmed, his hands shaking violently. Barry put a warm hand on Walker’s shoulder, smiling at him comfortingly. “Listen, Anthony. It’s alright. It’s okay,” he murmured softly. “Can you tell me where you live? I can get you and your wife to safety, okay?”

            Walker just nodded, looking numb. Once he managed to get the address out, Barry ran both Walker and his wife to the police station, dropping them off in Lance’s office. He explained the situation quickly to Lance before returning to Oliver.

            Oliver shook his head in awe. “You never cease to amaze me, Barry.”

            Barry just grinned before running Oliver back to the foundry.

\---

            Thea wandered around the club, mulling over all this newfound information, when Roy walked in.

            She turned to him and smiled, crossing her arms. “You know, I’ve been wondering. How do you decide between the red hoodie and the one with the mask?”

            Roy smiled back, glad to see her relaxed. He was so relieved by how she was taking this. “I’m glad you know,” he said, feeling like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

            “I felt pretty lame not recognizing my own brother just because he’s wearing a hood,” she admitted jokingly. “I can’t believe you knew before I did.”

            “He saved my life, Thea,” Roy replied with a shrug. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to repay Oliver for all he’d done. Roy was just happy he could stop lying to Thea.

            “He saved a lot of people’s lives,” she said thoughtfully, a small smile on her lips. “He thinks we need Merlyn’s help.”

            Roy nodded. “And what do you think?” he asked, his voice low.

            Thea furrowed her brow, taking a breath. “I think I wanna get as far away from Malcolm Merlyn as I possibly can.”

            “Well, there’s your answer,” Roy said. 

            Barry walked into Verdant to get Roy, and froze when he saw Roy and Thea together. “Hey, sorry to interrupt,” he said with a smile. “Roy, we need you downstairs.”

            Thea looked over and her eyes widened. “Barry.”

            “Hey, Thea,” he replied, ducking his head and smiling.

            “You’re a part of this, too?” she asked, and then paused. He’s Oliver’s roommate, of course he’s involved. “I should’ve known.”

            “Don’t get him started,” Roy muttered to her with a good natured grin as he walked towards the stairs.

            Barry grinned and sped towards Thea with a gust of wind.

            “Wow,” she breathed. “You’re…”

            “The Flash,” Barry finished with a grin.

            “You saved my life once,” she said, staring at him. “Thank you.”

            “Of course,” Barry replied, beaming. “Anything for Oliver’s family. I should get back, though.” Then he sped back down to the foundry.

            “So what’s going on?” Oliver asked, crossing his arms.

            “Laurel is down at the Starling City docks,” Diggle said.

            “Doing something reckless, presumably,” Oliver replied with a sigh. Barry just shot him a glare.

            “I ran the manifest on the shipping containers,” Diggle said, walking over to the computers. “One of these leads back to Zytle’s old supplier.”

            “Looks like Vertigo’s back in business,” Roy noted.

            “We have to get down there,” Barry said urgently. “Laurel shouldn’t be doing this alone.”

\---

            Barry got there first, speeding right up to where Laurel was hiding on top of a shipping container just out of sight of Zytle. “What are you doing?” he whispered.

            She glanced at him quickly. “I was there when he got free.”

            “You still should’ve called us,” he replied.

            She shot him a look. “You sound like Oliver.”

            Barry grinned. “Well, he’s right every once in a while.”

            Just then, a man came up behind them, and Laurel spun around, flipping him off the container before he managed to touch either of them. Zytle and his men turned at the noise, aiming their guns at Barry and Laurel.

            Barry quickly picked Laurel up and sped them both behind another shipping container before Zytle could do anything.

            “So what’s the plan?” Barry asked Laurel as the kept their backs to the wall.

            “I didn’t exactly have one,” she admitted.

            “You were going at Zytle _alone,_ without a plan?” Barry exclaimed, staring at her. He paused, biting his lip. “Is this how Oliver feels when I do this?”

            Laurel scoffed. “Please, you’re worse than I am. This is the first time I’ve done this.”

            Barry chuckled. “You may have a point.”

            Before he could say anything else, he felt a sudden stab in his neck. He felt dizzy, and his vision began to blur as he tried to turn and see what happened. He pulled a needle out of his neck, letting it clatter to the floor.

            He frowned for a moment, hearing Laurel ask what was wrong as though she was underwater. He glanced around and saw Zytle, looking smug.

            “Feeling my Vertigo, Flash?” he said, and Barry finally understood what was happening.

            He was vaguely aware of Laurel lunging towards Zytle and them beginning to fight- or maybe it was Zytle running away. He couldn’t be sure what exactly was happening. He just felt like the world was spinning, like he couldn’t focus his gaze on any one thing.

            Until Oliver appeared in front of him, glaring at him, eyes red like he’d been affected by Bivolo. “What are you even doing here, Allen?” Oliver hissed at him, stepping forward.

            “Ollie, what are you talking about?” Barry said, stepping backwards. He didn’t like the way Oliver was looking at him with disdain.

            “You know you don’t belong in Starling,” Oliver said, swinging his bow into Barry’s face.

            Barry stumbled backwards, bringing a hand up to where blood was beginning to trickle down his face.

            “I don’t want you here,” Oliver snapped, kicking Barry hard in the chest so Barry slammed into the side of the shipping container. “I’ve _never_ wanted you here.”

            “Ollie, you don’t mean that,” Barry said softly, his head pounding from where it hit the wall.

            “You’re not really a hero,” Oliver said, stepping forward and putting his hands on either side of Barry’s head, leaning forward until they were inches apart. “You’re just some guy who got struck by lightning.”

            Barry felt stung, and he opened his mouth to reply, but Oliver punched him in the face before he could say anything. Barry slipped to the ground, leaning back, bringing a hand to where his lip had split.

            Oliver crouched down in front of Barry, laughing cruelly. He leaned forward again, and Barry tried to lean away, pressing himself as far against the wall as he could. Oliver’s nose was practically touching Barry’s as he glared. “You’re pathetic,” he hissed, and Barry could feel his breath against his lips. “How could you ever think I’d be with someone like you?”

            “Ollie, please,” Barry exhaled, squeezing his eyes shut. “Don’t.”

            Oliver scoffed. “You should just go run back to Central City. You know I’d be better off without you.”

            Barry couldn’t stop his lip from trembling. “Oliver, stop.”

            “Make me,” Oliver replied challengingly, leaning so close his lips brushed against Barry’s as he spoke.

\---

            Oliver jumped up onto a shipping container to survey the scene. He saw Laurel fighting with one of Zytle’s men, kicking and swinging her weapon. She appeared to be winning.

            Then he looked down and saw Barry on the ground, face bloodied, not moving, with Zytle raising a baton to deliver a final blow. Oliver immediately shot an arrow into the weapon, knocking it out of Zytle’s hands.

            “Stay away from him,” he growled.

            “You should be dead,” Zytle called up as he began backing away. He sounded almost amused. “I salute your persistence!”

            He ran away, and Oliver went to follow, but was stopped by one of his men. Two more of his men came out to keep Roy and Diggle from following.

            By the time the fight was over, Zytle was long gone, and Barry was still shaking on the ground.

            Oliver walked over to him slowly, his chest hurting. “Barry,” he said softly, trying to make his voice as soothing as possible as he crouched down. He brought a hand up to Barry’s face, but stopped when he flinched away.  _Barry..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking a couple liberties with how the Vertigo hallucinations actually work.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second half of Arrow 3.13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really appreciate all the support I've been getting for this story. This is my first time writing any fanfiction for the Arrowverse, so I'm really grateful to everyone who's reading and commenting. Thanks so much, sincerely.

            They rushed back to the foundry, Oliver half-dragging Barry to the table. “Hook him up to an IV, and call Caitlin,” he instructed Felicity as he set Barry down.

            Felicity nodded, rushing around to get the medical equipment and dialing in the phone number.

            “What happened?” Oliver said to Laurel, his voice sharp.

            “Zytle snuck up on us,” she said, keeping her eyes on Barry. “I don’t know how he got the needle in Barry’s neck, but before I could do anything, his lackeys came after me.”

            “Why would you go there alone?” Oliver snapped at her. “This could have been _prevented_.”

            “Hey, take it easy,” Diggle said taking a step forward and putting his hand up to Oliver.

            Oliver just looked back to Barry, brow furrowed and heart beating fast. It pained him to see Barry’s eyes, wide and frantic and afraid. _I can’t see him like this,_ Oliver thought, taking a few steps backwards.

            Barry could feel his hair sticking on end, his hands shaking. He saw Oliver standing over the table, glaring down at him with cold eyes.

            “You’re just an inconvenience,” he sneered. “You can’t save anyone. You do nothing but fail. You couldn’t save your mom, or Bette, or me. You couldn’t even save yourself. What kind of a hero are you?”

            “Don’t,” Barry murmured, barely able to handle it anymore.

            “I died, and you did _nothing,_ ” Oliver said, leaning over him. “You just let me leave. You _let_ Ra’s al Ghul kill me. You can’t protect anyone, Barry.”

            Barry’s breathing was uneven, shaky. He couldn’t stop from trembling. He didn’t know how to make this stop, how to make any of it stop. He couldn’t listen to this anymore, couldn’t listen to the hate that was laced into Oliver’s tone. It cut deep, all the way to his bones.

            “I’ll never love you back. You know that,” Oliver hissed, his voice low. “Iris didn’t, why would I?”

            “Ollie…” Barry said pleadingly, his voice barely audible.

            Felicity glanced up at Oliver after hearing that, looking concerned.

            Oliver froze for a moment, hearing the pain and fear in Barry’s voice. _He’s hallucinating me,_ Oliver thought, horrified. He shook it off quickly, grabbing the strongest tranquilizer they had on hand and stabbing it into Barry’s leg.

            Barry’s eyes fluttered shut, but he kept murmuring, saying Oliver’s name.

            Oliver took a breath, swallowing his emotions. He had to keep his eyes off of Barry; it hurt too much to see him like this.

            “Ollie,” Thea said softly from behind them, eyes wide. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to talk.”

            “Thea, go back upstairs,” Oliver replied urgently, his voice rising. “Now.”

            “Don’t talk to her like that,” Roy said sharply, glaring. “You brought her in here, you don’t have the right to kick her out.”

            Oliver paused, taking a breath to quell his frustration. “She doesn’t have to see this,” he said as evenly as he could before turning back to Thea. “We can talk later.”

            “Is Barry gonna be okay?” Thea asked hesitantly, looking at the table.

            “He’ll be fine. I promise,” Oliver replied. “Just… Please, just go upstairs.”

            She nodded, still staring at Barry, before backing away and slipping back up the stairs.

            Oliver turned back to Roy, who was still glaring challengingly. “What was that?” he asked, matching Roy’s stare.

            “You think you’re the only person who can stand up for Thea?” Roy replied.

            “I’m trying to figure out why you’re standing up to _me_ ,” Oliver shot back.

            “Alright, maybe we just need to throttle back,” Diggle said, glancing between the two of them.

            “No, we need this,” Laurel said, keeping her eyes on Oliver. “Ollie, you’ve been gone. We thought you were dead. We had to go on with our lives and that meant not doing things your way.”

            “Fine. I’m back now,” Oliver replied sharply.

            “And I am _so_ glad that you are,” Laurel said earnestly, taking a step forward. “But you don’t get to judge us or the way we’ve done things, and you definitely can’t expect us to just follow your lead all the time.”

            “Laurel-” Oliver started, sighing.

            “ _No_ , Ollie,” Laurel snapped. “You want to work with the man who manipulated your sister and killed mine, _fine_. But you can’t lecture the rest of us about how to do things. Not anymore. You gave up that right when you teamed up with Merlyn.”

            Laurel was tearing up at this point, from frustration with Oliver and fear for Barry. She quickly spun around and walked briskly out of the room, seething.

            Oliver watched her go, exhaling slowly. He glanced around the room at the rest of the team, seeing that Diggle and Felicity weren’t on his side either. “Just let me know if there’s any change in his condition,” he said softly before walking out in the opposite direction of Laurel.

            He paused when he got upstairs, leaning against the wall and taking a deep breath. Alone in the quiet, he felt the emotions hit him. His hands were shaking slightly, worried for Barry and struggling with his choices.

            He was trying to do what he thought was right. Sometimes, that meant setting aside his ethics and his morals. Merlyn was his best shot at beating Ra’s. He didn’t like it, but it was the truth. Roy and Laurel challenging him like this just meant he had to go through with this alone. It didn’t change his mind. It just showed him that he had been right about doing things on his own.

            And seeing Barry like this reminded him that he couldn’t involve Barry in the fight against Ra’s either. Maybe Barry would accept Oliver’s choices, maybe he wouldn’t, but it didn’t matter. Oliver couldn’t let Barry be involved. He couldn’t put Barry in harm’s way. He’d never be able to focus if Barry was in danger.

            Just like he couldn’t focus right now, thinking of Barry in there, hallucinating his worst nightmares. _Which, apparently, is me_ , Oliver thought, feeling sick at the thought. _His hallucination was me. Why would it be me?_

            He squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to push away these thoughts.

            He sat down at the bar, alone in Verdant, his shoulders hunched over.

            After a while alone, he heard footsteps from behind him.

            “This seat taken?” Diggle asked.

            “It’s a free country,” Oliver replied with a stiff smile. He took a breath as Diggle sat down. “The first time we went after Zytle, I told you that this was my crusade. Doesn’t seem to be the case anymore.”

            “You’re right. It isn’t,” Diggle agreed.

            “I get that I was gone-” Oliver started.

            “No, you weren’t gone,” Diggle interrupted, turning to face Oliver. “You were _dead._ Felicity and Barry quit. The rest of us were ready to hang it up, too.”

            “So why didn’t you?” Oliver asked.

            “Because we were never just fighting for you. We were fighting for ourselves, too, Roy, Laurel, and I.” Diggle said. He narrowed his eyes at Oliver for a moment, studying his face. “You know, you can’t take your fear out on Laurel and Roy.”

            “What do you mean?” Oliver replied slowly, furrowing his brow.

            “I know you’re worried about Barry,” Diggle said. “But it wasn’t Laurel’s fault.”

            “Yeah, I know,” Oliver said softly, looking at the ground.

            “He’ll be fine, Oliver,” Diggle said, his voice getting softer.

            Oliver sighed. “He better be.”

           Diggle smiled. "You know, Barry's pulled through from a lot worse. He's strong."

           "I know," Oliver replied. "I just don't like seeing him like this."

\---

            Barry groaned, feeling almost hungover. His head was pounding and he felt nauseous. He leaned up, swinging his legs over the side of the table and resting his weight on his arms.

            “Hey, take it easy,” Felicity said, walking over to him. “How are you feeling?”

            “Like I got punched in the stomach,” Barry said with a small smile.

            “I think it was worse than that,” Felicity said, grinning back and touching his arm gently. “I called Caitlin. She says you’ll probably be fine.”

            “Well, that’s good,” Barry replied.

            “Yeah, she said your fast metabolism should get the Vertigo out of your system pretty quick,” Felicity continued. “She _also_ told me to scold you for being careless.”

            “Hey, it wasn’t my fault this time,” Barry said, rubbing his forehead.

            “Well, you _could’ve_ been paying more attention,” Felicity replied, crossing her arms and grinning.

            “This doesn’t seem like the time to be blaming me,” Barry said, feigning hurt. “I’m in _pain._ ”

            Felicity chuckled, shaking her head. “Poor you. Do you want some tea, maybe some cookies?”

            “Well, that sounds great, actually,” Barry quipped back, grinning.

            “Good, you seem well enough to get it yourself,” Felicity shot back, arching an eyebrow. “You’re the one with super-speed, after all.”

            Barry sighed dramatically. “I have to do everything around here.”

            “Really, though, are you okay?” Felicity said earnestly, leaning forward and dropping her teasing tone. “Those hallucinations are supposed to be pretty nasty, and Zytle gave you a triple dose for good measure.”

            Barry dropped his gaze to the floor. “Yeah, uh, I’m fine.”

            “You were saying Oliver’s name,” Felicity said softly.

            Barry felt a sharp pang in his chest at the reminder of what the hallucination had said. He knew now that it wasn’t really Oliver, but the memory alone hurt. “Yeah,” Barry replied, trying to shake it off.

            Felicity frowned as Barry avoided her gaze. “This kind of Vertigo is supposed to show you your worst fears,” she added.

            That got him to snap his eyes back up to hers. Barry’s eyes widened in realization. _Oliver must’ve heard me._ “So Oliver…” Barry said slowly.

            Felicity nodded. “You might want to talk to him,” she told him.

            Barry groaned, dropping his face into his hands. _At some point, you’re just going to need to face this,_ a nagging voice in the back of his head insisted. _You can’t keep avoiding your feelings forever. Oliver already knows, what are you waiting for?_

            “What were you hallucinating exactly?” Felicity asked hesitantly. “I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”

            “Just… Oliver hating me,” Barry admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. He shot Felicity a weak smile. “Pretty pathetic, huh?”

            “Not at all,” Felicity replied. “What’s going on with you and Oliver anyway?”

            Barry sighed. That question was more complicated than it seemed. “Nothing, really.”

            Felicity paused for a moment, studying Barry’s face, how sad and conflicted it looked. “Can I say something?”

            “Go ahead,” Barry replied.

            “I’ve been where you are,” Felicity said, her voice earnest and her eyes kind. She gave Barry a sympathetic smile. “Oliver is… Complicated. Trust me, I know how easy it is to fall for him, but… He’s not going to change, Barry. He thinks he needs to be alone, and he’s closed himself off to anything else. For your sake, you should distance yourself. Take it from someone who already had their heart broken by Oliver. Save yourself some hurt.”

            Barry furrowed his brow and stared at the floor. “That’s easier said than done,” he replied.

            Felicity just put a comforting hand on Barry’s shoulder.

            Oliver’s voice just echoed in Barry’s mind. _How you wish things could be different, but they can’t._

            _It could be different, Ollie. We could be different._

            Right then, the computer started beeping, and Felicity immediately turned.

            “What going on?” Barry asked.

            “One of the chemical drums Zytle stole tonight sent out a GPS signal,” Felicity said. “He must have just opened it.”

\---

            Oliver and Diggle quickly went back into the foundry, hearing from Felicity about the lead on Zytle.

            “Daggett Pharmaceuticals. Fifth and Kingsley,” Felicity announced as they walked in. “Looks like Zytle found a place to change those chemicals into some new Vertigo.” She looked up at Oliver as he walked to her. “And he’s got hostages.”

            “Where’s Roy?” Oliver asked.

            Diggle sighed, looking at his cell phone. “I can’t reach him.”

            Oliver clenched his teeth, furrowing his brow at the computer screen that showed where the hostages were being held. He brought his hand up to his neck, looking over at Diggle, conflicted. “Then I guess it’s just you, me, and Laurel.”

            Diggle raised his eyebrows at that, and Felicity glanced at Oliver questioningly.

            Barry got up from where he was on the table. “I’m coming, too,” he said, crossing his arms. Oliver had walked in the room without looking at him or acknowledging him, and now he was trying to sideline him?

            Oliver flicked his gaze over to Barry, keeping his expression neutral. “No, you’re not,” he replied. “You got dosed with Vertigo earlier. You need to stay here.”

            “I’m fine now, Ollie,” Barry said, glaring challengingly. He took a few steps toward Oliver, straightening his back. "I heal fast."

            Oliver met his stare easily, crossing his arms. “This isn’t a discussion.”

            “You don’t actually get to tell me what to do,” Barry shot back.

            Oliver sighed, frustrated. He couldn’t have Barry there. Not tonight, not after what happened. It would be too distracting. He couldn’t be more focused on protecting Barry than on saving the hostages. But he couldn’t say that, not without admitting how he felt. “We’re wasting time here,” he said, taking another step towards Barry. “Just… Please. Stay here.”

            Barry glared, not saying anything for a few moments. All he could think of was what the hallucination of Oliver had said to him. _You know I’d be better off without you._ “Fine,” he snapped back, turning away.

            Oliver’s chest tightened. _I’m sorry, Barry._ But he still left, Diggle following and Laurel meeting them outside.

            Felicity just glanced over at Barry. “He’s just worried about you,” she said softly.

            Barry just sighed, running his hands through his hair. “Maybe I never should have left Central City,” he said quietly, looking at the floor.

\---

            Oliver got to Zytle just in time to stop one of his henchmen from killing a hostage. He swung down into the building, Laurel following close behind, Diggle outside for backup.

            One of the men lunged at Oliver, swinging a fist towards his face. Oliver dodged, hitting the man with his bow. He and Laurel walked towards Zytle, staring him down.

            “Werner Zytle,” Oliver growled. “This ends now.”

            “As you wish,” Zytle replied. “May I suggest a grand finale?”

            Oliver just watched him, suspicious, hesitant.

            Zytle brought out a glass vial. “Chlorine trifluoride.” He dropped it to the floor, and Oliver watched as flames appeared, growing by the second. Zytle started to run, and Laurel followed.

            “ _Oliver, I’m registering an enormous spike in thermal activity,”_ Felicity’s voice came through. _“You have to get out of there.”_

            Oliver’s gaze flicked around quickly, seeing the flames circling around the hostages. “Not yet,” he said, shooting an arrow into the chains that held them, freeing them. “Go! Run, now!” he instructed. _Barry could’ve gotten them out faster._

            Oliver stopped, seeing one of the hostages on the ground, head bloody. He walked over, pulling the man onto his shoulder to get him out of the building.

            He went back in quickly, following after Laurel. She had him pinned and knocked out on the floor.

            “ _Oliver are you there?”_ Felicity asked.

            “It’s over,” he replied, relieved.

            “ _No, it’s not,”_ she said. _“You have to go. It’s Thea.”_

\---

            Oliver got to Thea’s loft, heart pounding. He walked in, seeing her at the table with Roy. “Thea?” he said gently. He ran over to her, kneeling on the floor. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

            “I thought that I was stronger,” she said. “I thought that I could keep myself safe.”

            Oliver squeezed her hand for a moment before turning to Roy. “Who was he?”

            “One of Ra’s’ agents,” Merlyn said from across the room.

            Oliver clenched his teeth at Malcolm’s voice. “Roy, can you give us a minute?”

            Roy just nodded, leaving the room and shooting a glare at Merlyn.

            “Really hope you’re not expecting a ‘thank you,’” Thea said to Merlyn, her voice bitter.

            “No parent needs gratitude for saving their child,” he said.

            “I didn’t ask to be a part of this,” Thea said. “I didn’t ask for any of this.” She looked down, brushing her hair back. “Maybe you were right. Maybe we can’t do this without him.” Her gaze flicked up to Malcolm accusingly. “But I am never gonna forget the things you’ve done. Or the person that you are.”

            “Understood,” Merlyn replied. “But before we can begin, there’s something that only the two of you can do. Ra’s al Ghul preys upon the fears of his enemies. Conquer your own fear, and you eliminate that critical advantage.”

            Oliver swallowed and straightened up at Merlyn’s stare rested on him.

            “For you, there is only one place on earth uniquely suited to doing that,” Malcolm went on.

            _That’s what I was afraid of,_ Oliver thought to himself.

\---

            Oliver went back to the apartment, walking in to see Barry on the couch.

            Barry straighten up when he walked through the door. “Oliver,” he greeted. “We need to talk.”

            Oliver bit the inside of his cheek. “It’s going to have to wait,” he said carefully.

            Barry froze a moment, narrowing his eyes at Oliver. “Ollie…” he started.

            “I’m going to Lian Yu,” Oliver said before he could continue.

            “The island,” Barry said, leaning his elbows on his knees. “You’re going back to the island.”

            Oliver didn’t reply, just stood up straight with his hands behind his back, trying not to meet Barry’s eyes.

            “Why?” Barry asked softly.

            “Merlyn said that Thea and I-”

            “Of _course,_ ” Barry interrupted, clenching his teeth. “You know, you just got back, Oliver.”

            Oliver dropped his hands back to his sides, let his shoulders fall a little. “I know, Barry. I just have to do this. It’s only for a few days.”

            “Have you told the rest of the team?” Barry asked.

            Oliver nodded. “I was just at the foundry explaining it to them,” he replied. He paused for a moment, then walked over and sat down next to Barry. “It’s for Thea.”

            “I can understand that,” Barry replied, hanging his head forwards. “But do you _really_ think that working with Merlyn is the best way to help Thea? Or abandoning the city? Or bringing her to Lian Yu?”

            “Barry,” Oliver said through his teeth. “You have no idea what we’re dealing with here.”

            Barry let out a short laugh, standing up from the couch. He felt the beginning twinge of anger on his skin. Oliver could be so stubborn. “And whose fault is that? Ollie, you don’t have to do any of this alone. You don’t need Merlyn. You have an entire team, but you’re just closing all of us out.”

            Oliver flicked his gaze over to Barry, narrowing his eyes. “You mean I’m closing _you_ out.”

            Barry glared at him. “That’s _not_ fair. Don’t make this about my feelings for you.” 

            Oliver sighed and turned fully towards Barry, taking a step forward. His pulse quickened, stressed and frustrated. “And what exactly are your feelings for me, Barry? You want to talk about shutting people out- you refuse to talk, say anything out loud. You’d rather just be cold and distant and vague, and-”

            Oliver cut himself short, squeezing his eyes shut a moment. He didn’t like getting emotional. He took a breath before opening his eyes again to look at Barry. Barry, with his arms crossed over his slender chest, his challenging gaze that Oliver knew so well.

            “You said my name,” Oliver said quietly, glancing at the ground. He wasn’t sure he wanted to see Barry’s reaction, read the change in his expression and his body language. Oliver just wasn’t sure he wanted to know anything about this at all. “When you were hallucinating on Vertigo. You said my name.”

            Barry put his face in his hands for a moment. He didn’t want to get into this, didn’t want to show Oliver just how vulnerable Oliver made him. It made him feel exposed, weak. “Ollie…” he sighed, still not sure where to start. He’d been trying to think of what to say since he talked to Felicity.

            “What am I supposed to do here, Barry? How can I include you in any of this, with the League and with Merlyn, knowing that _I’m_ part of your biggest fear?” Oliver brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck. He didn’t know what to do, how to deal with this. How to deal with Barry. “You know, I… I have to be willing to do a lot of things, things that Roy and Laurel and Felicity and _you_ wouldn’t do. Like work with Merlyn. You shouldn’t be a part of it anyway, Bar.”

            “Shouldn’t that be for me to decide? And if you know that the rest of us wouldn’t be willing to do this, doesn’t that mean you _know_ it’s wrong?”

            “Of course I know that it’s wrong. It’s Merlyn,” Oliver replied. “But I don’t have a choice.”

            “There’s always a choice, Ollie,” Barry said softly, walking towards him. “And you _are_ better than that. You may not see it the same way I do, but I _know_ you, Oliver. And you can find another way to protect Thea and fight the League, a way that doesn’t compromise your morals, who you are.”

            “Really? You have any suggestions?” Oliver retorted dryly, cocking his head to the side. “You don’t know the League, Barry. I should have _died_. I can’t beat Ra’s without Merlyn’s help.”

            Barry sighed, looking at the floor. “If you say so, Ollie.”

            Oliver hesitated, then took a few steps forward, closing the gap between him and Barry. He brought a hand up to Barry’s shoulder. “I’ll be back in a few days,” he said softly.

            Barry forced a smile. “And what then?” he replied. “You’ll still be working with Merlyn. You’ll still be insisting on doing all this by yourself. And I’ll still be in love with you, and you’ll still think you need to be alone.”

            Oliver’s chest tightened. _Barry, you have no idea how much I wish things could be different._ “Barry…”

            “Ollie, don’t,” Barry said with a sigh, pulling away so Oliver’s hand dropped back to his side. “Just… stay safe.”

           "We can finish this when I get back," Oliver said softly.

            Barry just nodded. Oliver watched as he turned away and walked back to his room. He imagined himself following Barry, saying _I love you,_ promising to find a better way to beat Ra’s. He imagined kissing Barry, feeling his soft lips with that unique feel of electricity, pressing himself against Barry, pulling him to the bed…

            And then Oliver walked out the door, heading back to Lian Yu. Everything else would have to wait.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is really more of a prologue for the next chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took a while and is pretty short. I seem to have hit a bit of a block, and life got a little bit in the way, too. I didn't want to leave you all hanging, though, hence the short chapter. I'll try to get the next chapter out soon!

            Barry heard the sound of Oliver closing the door behind him. _So he left. Back to the island._

            Barry sighed, running a hand through his hair and leaning against the door. He’d said it out loud. He’d put all his cards on the table at this point. Oliver already knew how Barry felt, and now Barry had confirmed it for him, but Barry still had no clue what Oliver felt for him. If anything.

            It seemed ludicrous to be worrying about this anyway. Oliver was headed back to Lian Yu. He said it was only for a few days, but knowing Merlyn and knowing what Barry knew about the island, any trip there was guaranteed to be dangerous. What did it matter if Oliver had any feelings for Barry if he might not come back anyway?

            _Oliver, why do you always have to do this?_

Barry glanced back at the front door, yearning to run after Oliver. Tell him to come back, tell him to reconsider. Ask him what he felt for Barry.

            _If anything_ , Barry reminded himself a second time, closing his eyes. _Maybe I should have just stayed in Central City._

            This was worse than the unrequited love he’d had for Iris, Barry decided. At least Iris wasn’t constantly trying to get herself killed. At least Iris was oblivious to Barry’s feelings. At least Iris had never kissed Barry. All of that made it easier. Barry knew where he stood with her.

            With Oliver, there was no solid ground. Barry felt like he was free-falling. He never should have come to Starling. It would’ve been better if he’d just stayed where he belonged. He certainly never should have asked Oliver to move in. It was one thing to be in love with someone like Oliver- it was another thing to live with him, too.

            _Felicity was right_ , Barry thought to himself. _I just need to distance myself._

\---

            The island hadn’t changed. The trees, the dirt, the water- it all felt so familiar. Like Oliver had never left, like the time he’d spent back in Starling had been some kind of elaborate dream. It was strange, being back in this place that he’d called home. How comfortable he felt may have been the most unsettling part. How easy would it be to return here, and to the man he used to be? How easy would it be to undo what he’d become since escaping the island?

            “Is it weird?” Thea asked from across the campfire. “You know, being back here with me?”

            “I’ve been back here before,” Oliver replied. “You know, in a lot of ways, this place reminds me of who I am. Or I guess, who I’ve become. It’s probably why Malcolm suggested we train here.”

            “It’s kinda cool that we’re here,” Thea said with a smile. “It’s like there’s really no more secrets between us anymore.”

            “Yeah,” Oliver replied, eyes downcast. _The things they don’t know about me could fill novels._

            “When you were here, did you ever think you were gonna see us again? Get home again?”

            Oliver hesitated, not sure how to reply. He just let his mind wander to when he did come back during those five years. How he did see her, and Tommy, and even Felicity, though he didn’t know who she was. Oliver had so many secrets from those five years. He knew that the slate could never be clean; he and Thea would never reach a point where there were no more secrets. Just like he and Barry would never reach a point with no secrets. Oliver would always have something to hide, from everyone.

\---

            Barry got to the foundry after work, the same usual time. Like everything was normal. He tried not to think of Oliver, back on that island so far away. He tried not to think of how many ways that could go wrong, knowing what Malcolm was capable of.

            But Oliver had said it was just a few days. Just a few days.

            The only person in the foundry was Felicity. She was sitting at the computer, looking lost in thought.

            Barry walked over to her, touching her gently on the shoulder.

            She gasped and turned quickly, wide eyed. “Barry!” she exclaimed. “You startled me.”

            “Sorry,” Barry replied with a small smile. “Where is everyone?”

            “Roy is taking a personal day. Too worried about Thea, I guess,” she said. “Diggle thought he’d spend the night with his family. I think Laurel is at having a late night at work.”

            “So it’s just the two of us tonight?” Barry asked.

            Felicity smiled. “Looks that way.”

            “Wouldn’t you rather be with Ray?” Barry said teasingly, leaning against the table.

            “Wouldn’t you rather be with Oliver?” she replied, arching one eyebrow and peering at him from above her glasses.

            Barry let out a nervous laugh. “Alright, point taken, you don’t want to talk about it.”

            “Did you guys end up talking?” Felicity asked, tilting her head to one side.

            Barry sighed. “Yes and no. You know how Oliver is.”

            “Actually, I’m not so sure that I do,” she replied, frowning. “I’m not sure anyone does, really.”

            “Seriously? He’s so predictable,” Barry said, falling into the chair next to her. “He just needs to throw himself into dangerous situations and align himself with dangerous people, all in the name of being the hero. He thinks he has to resign himself to the darkness, so he _does_. He just always thinks he can never be anything more than the vigilante.”

            “So you’re saying you knew he’d team up with Malcolm Merlyn?” Felicity asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

            “I’m just saying I’m not surprised,” Barry replied, frowning. “Oliver thinks that the difficult decision in to set aside his morals for the greater good. I think he’s wrong, that it’s harder and more worthwhile to stick to your ethics, even if it seems like you might lose if you do.” Maybe they were just too different anyway, Barry thought to himself.

            “Oliver’s more willing to believe that the ends justify the means than you are, that’s no secret,” Felicity acknowledged. “But beyond that, you two really aren’t that different. You both take every opportunity to be martyrs, it seems.”

            Barry shot her a look. _That’s not fair._ He started to reply, but his phone rang.

            “Cisco?” he answered.

            _“Barry, you gotta come down here,”_ Cisco practically yelled into the phone. _“We have about seven emergencies here right now. And like, I know Wells was evil and all, but he did so much around here, and Caitlin, Joe, and I are drowning a here without him. Bar, we don't know what to do.”_

“Cisco, slow down,” Barry said. “What’s going on?”

            _“Man, the irony of you telling me to slow down,”_ Cisco replied. _“But seriously, we have several situations. Ronnie is alive, for starters.”_

            “Ronnie, Caitlin’s fiancé?”

            “ _Yeah, but he was affected by the particle accelerator. And if it was only that, maybe we could handle it ourselves, but there’s more. You have no idea.”_

“What else?” Barry said, furrowing his brow and standing up.

_“We’ve got a meta who can use sound waves to attack. He came looking for Wells, seems hell-bent on revenge.”_

            “Revenge? What do you mean?”

            _“I’ll explain it more when you get here, but Barry, there’s one last situation. Uh, someone, uh… Someone stole a weapon I made. I shouldn’t have made it, but I did, and now it’s gone and someone is using it to rob banks. It’s a mess.”_

“Well, at least it’s only three emergencies,” Barry said. “Not seven.”

            _“Thanks for your optimism,”_ Cisco said dryly. “ _Now can you come help us?”_

            Barry glanced at Felicity, who was watching him curiously. “Yeah, and I’ll see if I can bring back up.”

            “What’s going on?” Felicity asked as Barry hung up the phone.

            “You interested in taking a trip to Central City?” he asked with a smile.

            “Absolutely,” she replied.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking place Arrow 3.14.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that school is back, I have things to procrastinate again. So maybe the chapters will be out faster.

            All he could see Sara’s face, falling from the building in slow motion. Snapshots in slow-motion. Then the scene changed, and it was Laurel, falling, falling. He tried to call out to her, but he couldn’t make a sound. It was like he was underwater. His feet were planted into the ground, no matter how hard he tried to force them forward.

            Then it was Roy, eyes glazed over, hood up, under the influence of the Mirakuru. He began walking towards Oliver, and Oliver couldn’t move. But he wasn’t after Oliver- he was after Thea, who was backing away, too slowly. Oliver tried to yell for her to run.

            Then it was his father, committing suicide in front of him. Then it was his mother falling to the ground, her eyes empty and cold. Then it was Felicity, a gun to her head. Then it was Barry, lying limp on a hospital bed, his hand hanging off the side, and all Oliver could hear was him flatlining, his heart stopping. And Oliver couldn’t do a thing.

            It was everyone he loved, everyone he cared about, dead and gone. Oliver couldn’t tell the difference between the dream and the memories.

            “Hey, Ollie,” he heard a voice say, a hand gently nudging his arm.

            He jerked awake, breathing hard and heart beating fast. So it was a dream. Some of it, anyway.

            “Are you okay?” Thea asked, brow furrowed.

            “Yeah, why?” Oliver replied, sitting up and shaking the dream off his shoulders.

            “You seemed like you were having a nightmare,” she said.

            “I’m fine,” he replied, rubbing his eye briefly. He pulled himself to his feet, comforted by the cold night air of the island.

            “Are you going somewhere?” she asked, straightening up.

            “I’m just gonna take a walk,” Oliver said, the images of all his friends and family’s deaths still fresh in his mind. “Clear my head.”

            “Alright,” Thea replied uncertainly, tilting her head to one side.

            Oliver just turned away and walked into the darkness, taking a few deep breaths. He just needed to regain his focus, remember what he needed to do. He couldn’t be sidetracked by all this fear.

            The image of Barry cold and bloody on the hospital bed flashed in his head. He couldn’t help but wished he’d handled leaving differently. He wished he hadn’t left Barry like he did.

            He made his way down to the waterfront, down to the prison cells that A.R.G.U.S. had set up. He took a deep breath as he stood on top of the entrance. He opened it, climbed down the ladder.

            “Slade,” he called out, walking towards the cell.

            He paused, noticing the door was ajar. His heart rate quickened as he walked into the cell. It was empty. Slade had gotten out.

\---

            Barry and Felicity got the S.T.A.R. Labs to see the place in chaos, papers everywhere and Cisco and Caitlin seeming frantic.

            Cisco rushed over when they entered the room. “Hey, guys,” he said, breathless. “Thanks for coming.”

            “Unfortunately, we can’t stay too long. So what’s happening?” Barry asked, glancing over at Caitlin.

            “We’re falling apart without Wells, man,” Cisco said, eyebrows furrowed, looking pained. “For a bad guy, he was really kind of crucial to the team here.”

            Barry didn’t say anything, just flicked his gaze down to the floor in front of his feet. He couldn’t help but blame himself a little bit. Eobard was after him, anyway. Cisco and Caitlin were collateral damage in a vendetta that had nothing to do with them.

            “And just when we were trying to adjust, all this happens at once,” Cisco sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Dude, it’s crazy. Caitlin saw Ronnie- but something’s different. He can light himself on fire.”

            Felicity raised her eyebrows. “Well, that’s new.”

            “Well, this isn’t Starling City,” Barry replied.

            “He didn’t seem to recognize me,” Caitlin said quietly, frowning. “We need to find him. Something is… wrong.”

            Barry pressed his lips together and nodded.

            “But right when we were trying to find him, an old coworker of ours came by,” Cisco said, his voice tightening. “Hartley Rathaway.”

            “Sounds like he wasn’t your favorite coworker,” Felicity commented.

            Cisco chuckled and exchanged a glance with Caitlin.

            “He wasn’t exactly the easiest person to work with,” Caitlin said carefully.

            “He was a dick,” Cisco interjected. “He was Dr. Wells’ golden boy, and he knew it. The _chosen_ one.” Cisco rolled his eyes and crossed his arms bitterly. 

            “He was brilliant,” Caitlin added with a sigh. “Incredibly talented, and he worshipped Dr. Wells.”

            “So what happened?” Barry asked.

            “He left S.T.A.R. Labs. He and Dr. Wells had some kind of disagreement,” Caitlin replied. Barry noticed she looked almost sad. “We hadn’t seen him since, but he showed up yesterday, demanding to know where Wells was.”

            “We were in the middle of trying to track down Ronnie,” Cisco added, glancing over at her. “Hartley noticed, said he knew where Ronnie was, and left before we could do anything.”

            “So what’s the plan with that, then? Find Hartley first and hope he can bring us to Ronnie?” Felicity asked. “What kind of powers does Hartley have? How could we track him?”

            “Hold that thought, there’s one last thing,” Cisco said, turning to Barry. “So when you discovered your powers, I… I made a weapon. A cold gun.”

            Barry paused and cocked his head to the side, confused. Then it dawned on him. “Because coldness slows things down,” he replied.

            Cisco furrowed his brow. “Yeah,” he said softly. "Cold and speed are kind of... opposites."

            “It was to stop me?” Barry asked, already guessing the answer.

            “Just in case,” Cisco said quickly. “I mean, we didn’t really know you, and with your powers…”

            “You needed a way to stop me if I turned out evil,” Barry said flatly. He felt a little stung by the idea, but it made sense. Plenty of the metas turned out evil. Cisco was just thinking ahead.

            “I shouldn’t have made it,” Cisco said quietly, eyes downcast. “But I did, and now it’s missing.”

            “It’s alright, Cisco,” Barry replied, a little stiffly. “You were just being cautious. How long has it been missing?”

            “I don’t actually know,” Cisco admitted sheepishly. “But the person who stole it has already used it.”

            “Joe is looking into the suspects for that bank robbery,” Caitlin said. “Apparently, the police don’t really have a good idea of who it was.”

            “So I guess we’ve got a full plate,” Felicity said. “What’s the plan?”

            Cisco let out a nervous laugh. “We haven’t exactly gotten that far.”

            “Wells usually thought of the plans,” Caitlin replied. “We’re stretched pretty thin here.”

            Barry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. This felt like it was his fault, somehow. His fault for leaving. His fault for being Eobard’s enemy. His fault for not offering to help more. He just couldn’t help but feel like this was his responsibility, like things would have been different if he’d never left.

            “Well, when Joe gets here, there’ll be five of us,” Barry said. “Let’s just split up the issues here.”

            “Well, like Felicity was saying, Hartley could lead us to Ronnie,” Cisco said. “Felicity and I can get to work trying to figure out a way to track down Hartley.”

            “I can keep researching where Ronnie could be and what might have happened to him,” Caitlin said.

            Barry wasn’t about to argue with that. “So Joe and I can work with the CCPD, see if we can track down the guy who stole the cold gun.”

            “Captain Cold,” Cisco said quickly, grinning.

            Barry couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, Captain Cold,” he corrected.

            It didn’t take long for Cisco and Felicity working together to make some headway in tracking down Hartley, as well as trying to figure out a way to apprehend him once they found him.

            While they did that, Joe and Barry looked through the police reports where the cold gun was used.

            “Hey, Joe?” Barry said softly, not looking up.

            “Yeah?” Joe replied.

            “Is there any news about my dad’s case?” he asked. He tried to sound calm, but he couldn’t quite hide how nervous he was about the answer.

            “Oh, Bar,” Joe said with a sad sigh. “Not yet. It’s going to be tough, with the real killer gone.”

            Barry clenched his jaw and nodded. He couldn’t help but feel guilt deep in his chest. He should’ve been spending more time focused on getting his dad out of prison, on proving his innocence. He’d been behind bars for too long.

            They didn’t have a chance to say anything else about it. A report came through Joe’s police radio of a bizarre weapon at a bank robbery.

            Joe looked at Barry. “I guess we found Captain Cold.”

\---

            Oliver ran back to the campsite, looking around urgently. The panic was rising. Slade had sworn to kill the people he loved, and here Oliver was, bringing Thea right to him.

            “Hey!” Thea said cheerfully, walking over with a handful of sticks. “The fire went out.”

            “We need to get off this island,” Oliver said urgently, breathless. “We’re in danger.”

            “What are you talking about?” she replied.

            “Slade Wilson is here,” he said.

            “Ollie, that is ridiculous,” Thea said.

            “It’s not,” Oliver replied. He bit the inside of his lip briefly, glancing around. “I was keeping him prisoner here.”

            “Was?” she said, eyes wide and accusatory.

            Oliver opened his mouth to respond when his satellite phone rang.

            _“Hello, Oliver,”_ Malcolm’s voice came through.

            “You let him out?” Oliver asked through clenched teeth.

            “ _You told me you lost your deal with Ra’s despite your willingness to kill him, because you hesitated. You need to regain that killer instinct born of a primal need to survive.”_

            “You’re sick,” he hissed.

            “ _Your phone is going to stop working after this call.”_

            Oliver slammed his phone shut and tossed it to the ground. So this was what Malcolm was playing at. Even still, he was toying with his own daughter’s life.

            “Ollie?” Thea said, her voice strained.

            “Merlyn set Slade loose as an object lesson,” he told her. His hands curled into fists as the anger rose in his chest. 

            “That’s insane,” she replied, running a hand through her hair anxiously.

            Oliver couldn’t argue. His team was right. Barry was right. Consorting with Malcolm had been the wrong call. Thea’s life was in danger, again. He should have seen this coming.

            What kind of hero was he?

            His mind started racing, and he pulled Thea by the wrist away from the campsite. They couldn’t be near it, Slade would find them.

            He half jogged, making sure Thea was close behind him, until they came to his makeshift graveyard from those five years. He didn't let himself pause to look at the names, to think about all that he'd lost. There wasn't time for that. 

            Thea’s eye’s caught on the name “Robert Queen” and her mouth fell open. “Talking to his grave back home, it always felt so empty,” she said quietly. She turned to him, frowning. “Why did you bring me here?”

            He pulled the gun that was hidden under the rocks out. “I needed to get this.”

            “Thought you were better with a bow,” she remarked.

            “I am,” Oliver replied. “This is for you.”

            He studied her face as she looked down at the gun in her hands. He didn’t want to put her in this position. He never should have come here, agreed to this. It was all wrong.

            Oliver glanced at the ground, seeing the way the leaves had been disturbed, the soft dirt imprinted with footprints. “He’s been here,” he said quietly, feeling his pulse all the way to his fingertips.

            Before he had a chance to react, Slade lunged out from the darkness, hitting him over the head.

            Oliver fell to the ground, consciousness slipping away, begging any deity that might be listening to not let Slade hurt his sister.

            If Thea got hurt, all this would have been for nothing. If Oliver couldn’t protect her now, everything he’d done so far would be in vain.

            He came to on a cot in a cold, musty room. He groaned, his head pounding, as he pulled himself up. Thea was huddled on the floor, arms wrapped around her knees.

            “You okay?” he asked.

            “Yeah,” she replied grimly.

            Oliver hunched his shoulders for a moment before looking at the cell door.

            “She’s unhurt,” Slade said, leaning against the bars. “I have no desire to kill either of you.”

            He met Oliver’s eyes, a cold glare. Oliver stared straight back at him, not about to give in and break eye contact.

            “Tomorrow, two bodies will be found in Starling City, burned beyond any recognition, with ample evidence that Oliver and Thea Queen have been killed in some horrible accident.”

            Oliver narrowed his eyes, glaring, his blood feeling icy in his veins.

            “I’m gonna leave you, kid, the same way you left me.” Slade started to turn away. “Alone in purgatory.”

            “You leave me, and let my sister go,” Oliver snapped, walking up to the bars.

            Slade turned back, pointing an accusatory finger at Oliver. “You’re lucky I didn’t bury her next to Shado.” He took a few steps towards Thea. “Did he tell you about her? Shado is the reason all this is happening. Why I killed your mother.”

            “He didn’t need to,” Thea replied coldly.

            “Of course he didn’t tell you,” Slade said. “Your brother likes his _secrets_.”

            Oliver watched as Slade stalked back over to him.

            “You always have,” Slade said. “That’s who you are.”

            Oliver’s gaze flicked to the floor. _And that’s who you’ll always be._ He’d always have secrets. He’d always have parts of himself he couldn’t share. There was nothing he could do about that, not anymore. No one would ever wholly know him. Not ever again. He’d never escape all his secrets. He'd never truly escape the island.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second half of Arrow 3.14.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to reiterate just how much I appreciate the support I've been getting for this story. You are all very nice, and I am grateful.

            Barry sped into the bank, seeing several tellers and civilians huddled across the room on the floor, their hands up meekly. A single man stood in the center of the room, wearing goggles and holding Cisco’s weapon, his stance authoritative.

            “Well, well, well,” the man drawled, turning with a smirk. “If it isn’t the _Flash_.”

            “I see you’ve heard of me,” Barry replied, matching his smirk. “So why don’t you just make this easy and turn yourself in?”

            “Now why would I do that?” the man replied, cocking his head to the side. “I’ve got the thing that can stop you.” He waved the cold gun slightly.

            “What do you need that for anyway?” Barry said, crossing his arms. “You seem to do just fine without it.”

            “Well, the _Scarlet Speedster_ of Starling City made a few appearances in my city,” he drawled, taking a few steps toward the bank vault. “Thought I’d stay ahead of the curve.”

            “And just what makes you interested in me?” Barry said, making a move to follow him.

            He aimed the cold gun at Barry before he could take another step. “My heists have gotten boring,” he replied. “I wanted to make things interesting.”

            “Don’t you have anything better to do?” Barry asked, putting his hands up disarmingly.

            “I sure do,” he replied, his tone almost smug, like Barry had asked the exact question he wanted. “Let’s see just how fast you can move, Flash.”

            With that, the man spun to the side, shooting at one of the bank tellers cowering on the floor.

            Time froze for a moment as Barry began to run towards the teller. He saw the beam of icy blue creeping across the air, moving in slow motion. His feet pounded into the floor, propelling him forward.

            The whole world was slowed down, his feet moving like they were trapped in molasses. Barry was lunging forward, fast but not fast enough. The crackle of yellow lightning bit at his skin as he raced against the ice.

            He was just in time to push the bank teller out of the way, but not fast enough to escape the beam himself. He felt it hit his abdomen. It only felt cold for a moment, and then there was just a white hot pain.

            Barry bit back his cry of pain, not wanting the hostages to see how he was losing control of the situation.

            The bank robber turned to shoot at a civilian, and Barry had to run against the pain to pull her away from the beam. It was close, too close, the ice just barely grazing against her sleeve as she gazed up at Barry with fear in her eyes.

            Barry bit the inside of his lip, trying to distract himself from the burning pain from where the cold gun hit him. But he didn’t have time to dwell on that before the man shot at another civilian.

            Barry could feel himself getting slower as he ran towards the man. All he could see was the creeping ice across the air and the man, immobile on the ground, staring at Barry pleadingly.

            But Barry wasn’t fast enough. The ice in his chest was pulling him backwards and he didn’t reach the man in time. The beam of ice hit, striking the man to the floor, frozen in an awkward position, his face a mix of pain and fear.

            “No,” Barry breathed, leaning down. He knelt on the floor beside the man, numb as he heard a woman scream. He turned, barely, seeing the hostages looking at him in shock.

            The bank robber was already on his way out with the money, halfway to a getaway car.

            Barry got to his feet and turned to the hostages. “Don’t worry, the police will be here soon,” he said, keeping the pain out of his voice and trying to offer a comforting smile as he blocked the view of the corpse on the ground. “It’ll be okay. You’re going to be okay.”

            He turned back to the door, watching the car speed away. As the pain sank in, he knew he wouldn’t be able to go after it. He was struggling to stay standing, keep his façade on. He just didn’t want these people to see him falter and become more afraid. He needed to be strong for them. They’d already seen someone die.

            He waited until the cops arrived, and took the last bit of strength he had to get back to S.T.A.R. Labs, running slower than usual.

            He got there to see Cisco leading Hartley Rathaway towards their cells in the particle accelerator.

            “So there he is,” Hartley said with a slight smile. “Starling City’s _Flash._ You’re taller than I expected. Cuter, too.”

            Barry just arched an eyebrow at him. “I see you got Hartley,” he said, directing it to Cisco and Felicity.

            “You know my name. You can call me Pied Piper,” Hartley interjected. He paused for a moment and shot Barry a smirk. “Well, _you_ can call me whatever you want.”

            “Hell no, I make the nicknames,” Cisco said quickly, pointing a finger at him. He clenched his jaw and sighed. “But Pied Piper is a good one.”

            Cisco led Hartley out of the room and Felicity turned to Barry with a smile. “He went after his family’s company, predictably,” she told him. “Cisco designed something to neutralize his powers-which, it turns out, are actually gloves that emit sonic attacks- and we caught him by surprise.” Her grin grew and she bounced a little on her feet. “It was really exciting, actually.”

            “Any luck with Captain Cold?” Caitlin asked.

            Barry just shook his head. “He got away,” he said, wincing as he sat down. “I wasn’t fast enough.”

\---

            There was no way out. Oliver paced back and forth, getting more and more anxious, as Thea sat on the cot throwing out ideas that would never work.

            _Call for help._ There was no one to call. No one would hear them, no one would help them.

            _Maybe there’s some way to break out._ A.R.G.U.S. designed this place, there was no escaping it.

            Oliver sighed, staring at the metal bars. If Malcolm wanted to reignite his killer instinct, it might be working, because he really wanted to kill Malcolm right about now. He sent his only daughter to a remote island and released a murderer. He took away their only mode of communication.

            Oliver just felt like a fox in a trap, ready to chew off his own leg. He couldn’t die here. Not here, not on this island. Not after everything it took to survive being stranded here, and then to get back home.

            He couldn’t just go through all that just to starve in a jail cell after he’d come back here voluntarily. It was like some kind of cosmic joke at his expense.

            But he did find a way out. Right around the corner of the cell, out of his reach was the release button. An adult man’s arm could never reach it, but Thea’s could, with a little help.

            She was brave, and strong, when he had to dislocate her arm in order for her to hit the button. He’d never have expected that from his younger sister before just recently, finding out that Malcolm had been training her. She might have changed more than he realized.

            When they got to the surface, the sun had started to rise and the island had the yellow tint of dawn. They ran towards the plane they’d taken to get here, hoping it would still be there, hoping Slade hadn’t already taken it back to Starling.

            As they ran, Oliver noticed too late that Thea was headed straight into a booby trap he’d set up all those years ago.

            He managed to shove her out of the way, only to get impaled in the arm and knocked to the ground.

            “We need to rest,” Thea panted, crouching next to him.

            “No, we have to keep going, we have to get to the plane,” Oliver said, his voice strained through the pain.

            “If you pass out, Slade will kill us both,” she replied.

            “Fine,” Oliver sighed, leaning his head back against the tree. “Just a couple minutes.”

            “What did Slade mean?” Thea said quietly, her eyes locked on Oliver. “When he was talking about your secrets? Are you still hiding something from me?”

            “Now is really not the time,” Oliver said, shaking his head. “We have to focus.”

            “I can’t focus, not while knowing you’re still keeping something from me,” she replied, leaning forward on her knees. “I can tell when you’re lying, Ollie.”

            Oliver sighed, rubbing his forehead. This didn’t seem like the time for this.

            “Is it about Sara?” Thea said softly. “You’ve barely mentioned her since she died, and why was Barry the one to tell me she’d died, anyway?”

            “It was Malcolm,” Oliver said carefully, not meeting Thea’s eyes. “Malcolm killed her.”

            “No. No, he couldn’t have,” Thea replied. “He was in Corto Maltese with me.”

            “He didn’t… kill her directly,” Oliver said, his voice getting quieter. “He used someone. He put them under the influence of a drug. So she wouldn’t know what she was doing.”

            “She?” Thea replied, her voice breaking a little. She got to her feet quickly. “She who?”

            Oliver took a breath, tense. He couldn’t look Thea in the eye, couldn’t see her hear this. It was too much. He set his jaw, forcing his gaze up. “You killed Sara,” he told her.

            The way Thea’s face fell, the way she brought her hands up to her face, it broke Oliver’s heart. Malcolm did this to her. Oliver squeezed his eyes shut as he heard Thea’s breath shake. She might never recover from this. He couldn’t bear it.

            “She was my friend! How could you not tell me?” Thea almost yelled, her voice bordering on hysterical.

            “Because you weren’t _you,_ ” Oliver replied insistently. “You had no control over your actions. You can _not_ blame yourself.”

            “Malcolm, he never loved me,” Thea said, running her hands through her hair, tears streaming down her face. “What the hell are we even _doing_ here?”

             Oliver got to his feet, staring past Thea.

            Slade came up behind her, pressing a gun to her temple. “I ask myself that same question. Over and over.”

            “Slade,” Oliver said, putting his hand up. “Don’t.”

            But he barely got the word out before Thea spun around, elbowing Slade in the jaw and pulling the gun from his hands.

            Oliver lunged forward, tackling Slade to the ground and they both went tumbling down the hill. When they got to the bottom, Oliver scrambled up, pressing a knee into Slade’s chest and punching him in the cheek.

            Slade hit back, right on his injured arm, and Oliver lost his grip. Slade pushed up, rolling Oliver off of him and getting to his feet. Thea had followed them down the hill, swinging at Slade as Oliver stood back up.

            Oliver pushed Slade into a tree, swinging a fist back at his face, and Slade swung back, grabbing Oliver by the arm and twisting it painfully behind his back.

            Thea hit Slade in the back with a tree branch, causing him to lose his grip on Oliver. She aimed the gun at Slade as he fell to his knees.

            “Thea, don’t,” Oliver called to her.

            “He killed Mom,” she replied.

            “And he will continue to pay for his crimes,” Oliver said. “But not like this. You’re not a killer.”

            “Tell that to Sara,” Thea hissed.

            “What happened to Sara is not on you,” he replied. “What happens to him is. This is what Malcolm wanted, Thea, he _wants_ us to be killers. He wants you to be just like him. Prove to him that you’re not.” _This, this is what working with Malcolm Merlyn has done._

            Thea pulled the trigger, shooting Slade in the arm.

\---

            “Well, we got Hartley at least,” Felicity said, giving her best optimistic smile. “Hopefully, he’ll lead you guys to Ronnie and Captain Cold will show up again and make a mistake.”

            “It could’ve gone worse,” Cisco said, smiling back at her and taking a sip his soda. “It was certainly better with help.”

            “I wish we could’ve done more,” Felicity replied.

            “You did plenty,” he reassured.

            “It looks like third degree frostbite,” Caitlin said to Barry, paying little attention to Felicity and Cisco’s positivity.

            “I can’t feel it,” he replied, looking down at the black mark just below his ribs.  

            “Your healing has been slowed,” she continued. “If your cells weren’t regenerating at the rate they are, your blood vessels would have been frozen solid. You’re lucky to be alive.”

            Barry furrowed his brow, feeling a stab of guilt. “Not everyone was so lucky.”

            “Come on, Barry,” Felicity called over from where she was sitting with Cisco. “You did everything you could.”

            “But it wasn’t enough,” Barry replied, rubbing his forehead, frustrated.

            “I swear, sometimes you sound like _Oliver_ ,” she said, shaking her head a little and shooting him a look.

            Cisco perked up at the mention. “So is that what it’s like, working with the Arrow?”

            “Let’s not get off topic,” Felicity said quickly with a smile. “Detective West, you said you had some suspects to show Barry before we head back?”

            “Yes,” Joe said, getting up and bringing a thick folder over. “I managed to take this from the station. Just glance through these, say if you recognize-”

            Barry sped through the folder and pointed to the picture before Joe could finish. “Him,” he said, looking down at the man’s mugshot, cold blue eyes staring back. He hadn’t been able to see Captain Cold’s eyes, blocked by the goggles.  

            “Leonard Snart,” Joe replied with a sigh.

            “Leonard?” Barry said, his mouth quirking up in a smile. “That’s almost as bad as Bartholomew.”

            Joe chuckled and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, well, he’s good at what he does. The police have been having a hard time catching him.”

            Barry thought about the man Snart had killed, lying on the ground with his face permanently frozen with pain and fear. “Well, they didn’t have me helping,” he said, lowering his voice.

            “Just for now,” Joe replied. “But weren’t you about to head home? How many vacation days have you already taken?”

            Barry sighed and looked at the floor. It was getting harder and harder to justify the frequent trips to Central City. He had a job, a life, back in Starling. “Well, I have super-speed. I can come back on really short notice whenever Snart resurfaces.”

            “Barry, have you considered maybe moving back here?” Joe said softly.

            Barry looked back up at Joe, his eyebrows furrowed. “Joe, I…” he started.

            “Look, just think about it, okay?” Joe said, squeezing Barry’s shoulder. “We could really use your help down here, Barry.”

            “I don’t mean to interrupt,” Felicity blurted out, walking over briskly. Her shoulders were tense and she looked at Barry, worried. “But we might want to think about heading back to Starling.”

            “Felicity’s right,” Barry said with a sigh. “The Arrow is out of town, after all.”

            “Promise you’ll think about it?” Joe said.

            Barry nodded, giving him a tight smile. He couldn’t deny that the idea was tempting. Being able to see Joe and Iris more frequently. Getting to know Cisco and Caitlin better. And without Wells, they really might need him after all.

            Avoiding Oliver would just be a welcome perk.

            They said their goodbyes, Caitlin insisting that Barry be more careful, Cisco thanking them for their help, and Joe telling Barry to call more often.

            As soon as Barry and Felicity walked out the door, Felicity grabbed his arm.

            “You’re not really considering moving back here, are you?” she asked urgently, eyes wide.

            Barry let out a quick laugh. “Felicity, I have a job and an apartment back in Starling.”

            “That’s not an answer,” she replied.

            “I don’t know, Felicity,” he sighed, pulling away from her.

            “Please don’t,” she said. “We need you in Starling. _Oliver_ needs you.”

            “Oh, come on,” Barry said dismissively.

            “He _does,_ ” Felicity insisted. She adjusted her glasses and sighed. “Look, you and Oliver clearly have some things to figure out, but he needs you now more than ever. Teaming up with Merlyn, going up against the League… Oliver won’t be able to get through this without you, Barry.”

            “He barely wants my help,” Barry replied, trying not to sound bitter. “He doesn’t even listen to me. He did fine without me before; he could do it again.”

            Felicity just sighed and shook her head. “I think you underestimate your importance to him.”

            “Maybe. Look, I don’t want to argue,” Barry said. “Let’s just head back.”

            Barry thought back to when he first arrived in Starling City, how sure he felt that it was the right decision. How he needed to be away from Wells, from Joe, from Iris. He remembered that feeling of relief and of belonging. Maybe it was the right decision at the time, but maybe it was always meant to be temporary. Maybe his adventures in Starling City were just a chapter of his life that was coming to a close.

            Maybe Oliver was just a chapter in his life coming to a close, too.

\---

            Oliver stood in front of the cell, Thea waiting outside.

            “She’s lost, your sister,” Slade said, pacing back and forth.

            “No, she’s not,” Oliver replied, arms crossed over his chest.

            Slade came to a stop right at the bars, staring straight at Oliver. “You can see it in her eyes. She’s been touched by darkness.”

            Oliver felt an uneasiness in his chest at the idea that Slade could be right. Maybe Thea was slipping, just like how Roy had been slipping since the Mirakuru, like how Oliver was slipping again now by working with Merlyn. Maybe they were all doomed to the darkness now.

            “So you’ve lost your father, your mother, and now your little sister,” Slade said, cocking his head to the side.

            Oliver kept his face stoic, as unreadable as he could be. He didn’t want to let Slade see how he was getting under his skin.

            “You don’t need my assistance here,” Slade continued. “You’re losing everyone just fine without me.”

            Oliver turned away, keeping his jaw clenched and his shoulders back as he walked towards the exit.

            “How many people can Oliver Queen lose,” Slade called after him. “Before there is no more Oliver Queen?”

            Oliver didn’t reply, just pulled the door closed behind him as he headed back outside. The words cut deeper than he was willing to admit. He didn’t want it to be this way. He didn’t want to get the people he loved killed, or have to push them away, or drag them down into the darkness with him.

            _Maybe it could be different. Maybe there’s a better way._

_Maybe I was wrong._

            He took a deep breath, the Lian Yu air feeling all too much like home. But it didn’t have to feel that way, Oliver told himself. He was choosing to lock himself away on the island, he was choosing to walk his path alone.

            Maybe he could choose something else.

            He let the idea settle in the back of his mind as he thought about going home. Back to his city, back to his team.

            Back to Barry.

\---

            Barry got back to the apartment, feeling completely drained. He collapsed onto the couch, rubbing his neck. He just felt tense, stressed. It just felt like there was too much for him to deal with at this point. He was split between two cities, stretched thin with his double-vigilante life, his job at the SCPD, and his completely ridiculous personal life.

            It was just too much.

            He sighed, staring at the ceiling for a moment, thinking about what Joe had said. Central City hadn’t felt like home for a while now, but Starling City wasn’t exactly ideal at this point either. And the S.T.A.R. Labs team did seem like they could really use the extra help.

            After all, they were going after meta-humans without a meta-human to help. Kind of like how the Starling City vigilante team had a meta-human to go after normal people. It didn’t really make sense, Barry thought to himself. At a certain point, it did seem like the reasonable thing to do would be to go back to Central City. That’s where his family was. That’s where he was needed.

            When he came to Starling City in the first place, he’d needed a change of scene. He’d needed some distance. Well, now he’d gotten it. Maybe all he needed was a few months.

            Or maybe he was just trying to talk himself into running away again. Barry shut his eyes, trying to tell the difference. Had he just been running away when he came to Starling? If he left now, would it just be running away again?

            Was that all he could do now?

            He heard Oliver’s bedroom door creak open, and he jumped up, spinning around.

            Oliver was in the doorway, leaning against the frame. “Barry,” he said softly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

            “Hey,” Barry said, embarrassed at how startled he’d been. “I didn’t realize you were back.”

            “I kind of just got back,” Oliver said. “Where were you?”

            “Oh, uh, Central City,” he replied, gesturing vaguely towards the door. “S.T.A.R. Labs called me in for a case.”

            Oliver just nodded, glancing at the floor. There was a brief uncomfortable silence, before Oliver ran his hand over his hair and let out a nervous chuckle. “You were right,” he said.

            Barry arched an eyebrow. “Well, that’s not something I hear every day. What about?”

            “About Merlyn,” Oliver said. “Teaming up with him. It was the wrong call. You were right.”

            “Well, I hate to say I told you so,” Barry replied with a smirk.

            Oliver scoffed. “Well, that’s just not true. You love saying _I told you so._ ”

            Barry grinned. “That I do.”

            Oliver took a few slow steps out of the doorway, running his hands through his hair again. Barry couldn’t help but notice how uncomfortable- and nervous- he looked. It was a little odd, seeing Oliver hesitant and unsure like that.

            “So, uh, Barry…” Oliver started carefully, not quite looking him in the eyes.

            Barry raised his eyebrows. “You doing alright there, Ollie?”

            _Just say it. You should’ve said it before you left._ “I just… I wanted to…” Oliver started. _Come on, just get it out, you have to tell him._ “Sorry, what was the case in Central City? How did it go?” Just a little stalling, Oliver told himself.

            “Oh, there were two villains to catch,” Barry replied. “We actually only ended up getting one of them.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “You know, they’re actually pretty swamped there. Since it’s just Caitlin, Cisco, and Joe.”

            “Yeah, sounds like it’s a lot for three people to handle,” Oliver replied. He didn’t like where this was going.

            “Yeah, it is,” Barry said, with a quick smile. “Joe actually, uh… He suggested I consider moving back there.”

            _There it is. You missed your shot, Ollie. He’s leaving._ “Oh,” Oliver said, stiffening, trying to mask his emotions.

            “Any thoughts on that idea?” Barry prompted, taking a small step towards him. _Just ask me to stay and I will, Ollie._

“Do whatever you think is best,” Oliver replied evenly. He didn’t meet Barry’s gaze. “Well, it’s been a long day. I should…” he trailed off, gesturing towards his bedroom.

            “Right,” Barry replied, furrowing his brow. “Goodnight, then.”

            He watched Oliver go back to his room, not sure what to think.

            Oliver closed the door behind him, feeling ready to hit something. Of course. He was too late. He’d taken too long. It made sense for Barry to go back. It did, Oliver could see the logic. He understood it. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit longer than usual, because the next one might take a little while. Just a heads up.

            Barry walked down into the foundry, hearing the sound of swords hitting one another. He noticed Laurel and Diggle leaning against a table, talking quietly with their arms crossed, before he noticed what was going on in the center of the room.

            Malcolm Merlyn was there, training with Oliver and Thea.

            Barry walked over to where Laurel and Diggle were, shooting an exasperated look at Laurel.

            “Hey, Barry,” she said, her voice stiff.

            “Laurel,” he replied. “Don’t you think they could train elsewhere?” He didn’t bother to try and keep the bitterness from his tone.

            Laurel clenched her jaw. “I really wish that they would,” she sighed. “I can’t believe Oliver is really doing this.”

            Barry leaned against the table next to her, crossing his arms, too. “Me neither,” he replied, staring Oliver down.

            “We’re supposed to be a team, but our opinions don’t matter when it comes to what Oliver wants to do,” she continued.

            “I really thought they would this time,” Barry said, shaking his head slightly. He thought that Oliver had listened to him. He  _thought_ that Oliver had admitted his mistake.

            “I can’t believe I have to be in the same room as my sister’s killer,” she replied, her voice low.

            “They could at least stay out of the foundry,” Barry replied, feeling himself get angrier. He couldn’t tell if it was on Laurel’s behalf, or because Oliver didn’t listen to him. Again. “That’s the _least_ they could do.”

            “And yet, here we are,” Diggle interjected. He seemed to disapprove too, but wasn’t quite as angry as Barry or Laurel.

            “Maybe not for much longer,” Barry sighed, almost to himself.

            Laurel broke her glare at Merlyn to look at him questioningly. “What do you mean?”

            “Joe asked me to move back to Central City,” he replied.

            Laurel paused for a moment. “Are you going to?”

            “I don’t know,” Barry said, rubbing the back of his neck. “They do seem pretty overwhelmed at S.T.A.R. Labs. And Oliver seems to be doing his own thing now.”

            Merlyn, Thea, and Oliver stopped their sparring to take a break, and Oliver glanced over at Barry. He glared, and Oliver looked away quickly.

            Barry shot Laurel a quick smile. “I’ll be right back,” he said, before stalking over to Oliver. “Could I have a minute?”

            Oliver nodded, not meeting his eyes. Barry led him to the other side of the room, fists clenched.

            Once they got out of earshot of the rest of the team, Barry crossed his arms and gave Oliver a hard stare. “What happened to me being right?”

            “Look, Barry, you _were_ right,” Oliver said with a sigh. “But it’s too late for that now. We already teamed up with him. Following through on that plan is still the best course of action.”

            Barry just scoffed. “You’re unbelievable. I thought you were going to do the right thing here.”

            “Barry, I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do about this now,” Oliver replied, his voice low. He looked at Barry pleadingly. “Ra’s could kill me. He could kill _Thea._ Merlyn is the only one who can help us beat him.”

            “Or you could just talk to Nyssa, tell her the full story. This doesn’t have to end in a fight,” Barry replied, as though it were obvious. “She seems reasonable, and she wants actual justice for Sara. If she knows it was Merlyn who forced Thea to kill Sara, she’ll understand that Merlyn is the only one at fault.”

            “You don’t _know_ that. I’m not gambling with my sister’s life like that,” Oliver hissed back, taking a step forward. “If I tell the League that Thea was the one that shot the arrows, they’ll kill her _and_ Merlyn.”

            “You have no faith in people,” Barry replied.    

            “You have too much,” Oliver shot back.

            Barry narrowed his eyes. “Maybe you’re right. But Nyssa hasn’t been the one disappointing me here.”

            Oliver clenched his jaw. “You can be disappointed in me all you want, Barry. I’m keeping my sister alive.”

            “Talking to Nyssa could save her life, too,” Barry replied. “And how could you do this to Thea, anyway? Work with the man who forced her to kill a friend? How could you do this to _Laurel_?”

            “Barry, I don’t have a _choice,_ ” Oliver replied, looking at Barry desperately, trying to make him understand.

            Barry didn’t say anything for a moment. “There’s always a choice, Ollie. You _know_ that.” He sighed, looking at Oliver with a furrowed brow. He thought about what Felicity had said, all those months ago, when Barry first found out that Oliver was the Arrow- _Never meet your heroes, right?_ He took a breath and offered a sad smile. “I still believe in you, Oliver. You know that, right?”

            He didn’t wait for Oliver to reply. He turned away, heading back to over to Laurel. He took a breath to try to calm down, but he really couldn’t believe Oliver was still doing this. He really thought that Oliver was better than that. Maybe he was wrong.

            Laurel glanced up at him. “What was that about?”

            Barry didn’t reply, just sighing and leaning next to her. He took a moment to glance around, make sure no one was close enough to hear them. Oliver had gone over to Thea and Diggle, Malcolm was across the room.

            “Hey, Laurel,” he started, his voice quiet.

            “Yeah?” she replied.

            “I think it’s about time we went a different direction here,” he said, crossing his arms.

            “What do you mean?” she asked.

            Barry shot her a smile. “Do you know how we could get in touch with Nyssa?”

            “I might have a way,” she said carefully, narrowing her eyes. “What are you thinking?”

            “I’m thinking that we take matters into our own hands,” he replied. “Oliver is wrong. We can fix this without Malcolm.”

            Laurel glanced over at Oliver, like she was worried he could hear. “You really want to go behind Oliver’s back like that?”

            “I don’t think he’s given us a choice,” Barry replied. _Oliver, if you won’t do the right thing, then I will._

\---

            Oliver sighed, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. He knew how Barry felt about all this. He _knew._ Barry was right, teaming up with Malcolm Merlyn had been a bad idea. Maybe they should have thought of a better plan from the beginning.

            But Oliver was right, too. It’s not like he wanted to go against his morals, what he believed in. But this was their only shot now. They were running out of time. There was no way the League didn’t know he’d survived at this point. And they’d be coming after him- soon.

            He knew that even if they knew the truth, even if they understood that Malcolm was the true killer and they let Thea off the hook, they would still be coming after Oliver.

            He had challenged Ra’s. It didn’t matter whether he killed Sara or not anymore. Challenging Ra’s was a death sentence in and of itself.

            He didn’t tell Barry this. He didn’t want to worry him.

            And truthfully, Oliver didn’t want to make Barry feel like he had to stay. If Barry chose not to leave Starling, Oliver wanted it to be _his_ decision. Really, he needed it to be.

            Oliver glanced over at Barry and Laurel. His heart sank at seeing Barry hard expression, his stiff shoulders. Maybe Barry would be better off staying far away from Oliver anyway.

            After all, Oliver had really brought Barry nothing but pain.

            Barry would be fine without Oliver. Oliver knew that he was the one that would be lost without Barry. Which was exactly why he couldn't tell Barry that he loved him.

            Oliver picked up a sword, feeling its weight in his hands, trying to memorize the way it moved. He couldn't try to figure things out with Barry right now, but he could do this. He could be prepared for the League. He could protect Thea.

            Diggle walked over, arms crossed.

            “What is it?” Oliver replied, his voice stiff.

            “I was going to ask for a favor, but I’m really more concerned about you right now, Oliver,” Diggle replied, leaning back.

            “I’m fine,” Oliver said automatically.

            Diggle sighed, frowning a little. “When’s the last time you got a decent night’s sleep?”

            “I will sleep when this is all over,” Oliver replied. It's not like he could sleep with this looming over him anyway.

            “Things with you and Barry okay?” Diggle said, his voice sounding casual, but his eyes narrowed, focusing on Oliver’s expression.

            Oliver tried his best not to let his emotions show through. “He disagrees with what I’m doing,” he replied carefully.

            “That much is obvious,” Diggle said. “Did you expect anything else from the guy?”

            Oliver sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “No. He just doesn’t understand that sometimes, these kinds of methods are necessary.”

            “It’s all a matter of priorities, Oliver,” Diggle pointed out.

            Oliver shot him a look. “So you don’t think Barry would do the same thing if it were his family?”

            “Not this time,” Diggle replied.

            Oliver didn’t reply. He couldn’t argue. Barry would’ve found another way from the start.

\---

            Laurel was in her office, finishing up her work and trying to get ahold of Nyssa, when Thea walked in. She wouldn’t make eye contact.

            “Thea?” Laurel said softly.

            “I, um, I haven’t had a chance to apologize to you,” Thea began, her voice cracking a little as she spoke.

            Laurel’s chest tightened. She wasn’t sure just how much she wanted to hear this. She knew it wasn’t Thea’s fault. She’d managed to compartmentalize her anger. But she didn’t want to have the image of Sara, falling from the roof, paired with Thea shooting the arrows.

            “I didn’t… I didn’t know what I was doing, it wasn’t me, but…” Thea continued. Her bottom lip trembled. “I’m so sorry, Laurel.”

            Laurel took a few steps forwards, putting a hand on Thea’s shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault, Thea. It wasn’t your choice.” She paused, pulling her hand away. “But Thea, I have to ask. Why are you working with Merlyn, after all he’s done?”

            “I don’t have a choice,” she said, barely audibly. “With the danger from the League… Oliver says this is our only option.”

            “You _do_ have a choice, Thea,” Laurel replied. “Merlyn has hurt all of us. You and Oliver working with him, it’s protecting him from the League.”

            Thea didn’t say anything for a moment. She looked up at Laurel, finally meeting her eyes. “What should we do, then?”

            Laurel’s lip quirked up in the barest smile. “Barry and I had a plan.”

\---

            Barry paced in the apartment, waiting for Laurel to get back to him on whether she was able to get ahold of Nyssa. Oliver still wasn’t home. Barry guessed that he was at Thea’s loft.

            It’s not like Barry didn’t _get_ it. Oliver loved Thea; he’d do anything for her. But Barry didn’t know how to make him see that this wasn’t the only way to protect her. And now he’d given up.

            He tried to push the guilt away. He didn’t want to go behind Oliver’s back. He hated it. It was just that he needed to try something, anything, both for Oliver and for Thea. And for Laurel. Oliver would understand. He had to. Right?

            Barry didn’t want to think about it.

            He practically jumped when his phone finally rang, answering it immediately.

            “Laurel?” he said.

            _“Uh… No,_ ” Cisco’s voice replied. “ _Sorry.”_

            “Oh, hey, Cisco.” Barry was almost relieved that it wasn’t Laurel. His nerves were really getting the best of him. “What’s up?”

            _“So I know you were just here,”_ Cisco started. _“And I’m sorry for this, but we really need you again. Hartley got out.”_

            Barry paused. “What do you mean, got out?”

            _“He had some tech with him, I don’t know, some kind of explosive,”_ Cisco replied, with a frustrated sigh. “ _But now he’s gone, and we don’t know how to get him back. It looks like he wanted to get caught. I think we need your speed, dude.”_

            Barry bit the inside of his cheek. He didn’t have time for this. “I’ll be right there.”

            He didn’t tell Oliver or Laurel. He just left. It would probably take some time for Laurel to get in touch with Nyssa anyway. It would be fine.

\---

            Oliver got to Thea’s loft, seeing her standing at the window, staring out at the city. She was completely still as he entered the room.

            “Thea?” he said hesitantly, walking over to her.

            “Sara was a good person, Ollie,” she replied, not looking at him.

            “You can’t blame yourself,” Oliver told her.

            “I blame Malcolm.” She turned to face him, her expression calm and cold.

            “I know, Thea,” Oliver replied, keeping his voice low. “I’m sorry we have to work with him, but you have to understand the danger we’re facing.”

            “We’re not in any danger,” Thea replied, anger laced through her tone. “Not anymore, not you or me. But Malcolm? He’s going to face justice.”

            Oliver paused, taking a small step back. He furrowed his brow, looking at Thea. “Thea, what have you done?” he asked quietly.

            “What we should have done from the beginning,” Thea replied, straightening her back and lifting her head, daring Oliver to argue. "Laurel and I took care of it."

            But he didn’t. He didn’t have time to explain his side here, not again. He had tried to make everyone understand this. He just turned away, walking straight to the door. “I have to get back to the foundry,” he said.

            He got on his bike and started driving. The cold wind stung as he zipped through the streets of Starling, cutting through alleys.

            He didn’t go to the foundry first. He went to his apartment. _Please be here, Barry._

            He walked inside, a little breathless. He went straight to Barry’s room, but it was empty and dark. He sighed, leaning against the wall for a moment. He just wanted to talk to Barry at this point. He wasn’t even sure why. It wasn’t like Barry was even on his side here.

            He walked slowly back out into the living room, knowing he’d have to get back to the foundry, when he saw Barry’s phone, abandoned on the coffee table. _Great. I can’t even get ahold of him._

            Maybe he’d be at the foundry. So Oliver headed there, speeding the whole way.

            Oliver walked into the foundry to see Felicity at the desk, Laurel and Roy standing near her, Diggle by the table. But no Barry. Of course.

            “Have you seen Barry?” Laurel asked when she saw him. “I’ve been calling him.”

            Oliver just shook his head. “He left his phone at our apartment.”

            “Nyssa and the League kidnapped Merlyn,” Diggle told him.

            Oliver sighed, crossing his arms. “I know. Thea traded Merlyn for safety.” He paused, narrowing his eyes at Laurel. "Laurel helped her."

           "Oliver, you're not the only member of this team," Laurel replied defiantly. She didn't feel bad about what she'd done. "And if you don't like it, you can take it up with Barry and Thea. They had as much to do with it as I did."

           Oliver clenched his jaw, not responding. So Barry was in on it, too. But he couldn't think about that, not now. 

            “Merlyn has that video,” Diggle said. “The first thing he’d going to do is show it to Ra’s.”

            Oliver shook his head. “It was a bluff to make me challenge Ra’s,” he said, though he didn’t sound certain. “Merlyn loves Thea. He would never just serve her up.” He paused, taking a breath. “We have to get him back.”

            “What?” Laurel said incredulously. “Are you _kidding_ me?”

            “Yeah, I’m with her,” Felicity said, getting up. “You want to _rescue_ Merlyn from the League?”

            “My sister did this because she is angry,” Oliver replied. “Eventually, she will settle down and realize that she basically just killed her own father.”

            “More like she turned in a murderer to face justice,” Laurel replied crossing her arms challengingly. “Why are you still protecting him?”

            “I’m trying to protect _Thea,”_ Oliver said. “The guilt is going to eat away at her if she goes through with this.” He turned to Felicity. “Please.”

            She hesitated, glancing at Laurel, before walking back to the computers.

            “Are you out of your mind?” Laurel said, glaring.

            “We should really try to get ahold of Barry,” Roy said, glancing at Diggle.

            “Yeah, maybe _he’ll_ be able to talk some sense into you,” Laurel hissed at Oliver.

            “I got something,” Felicity interjected. “The cameras at Starling City Aviation went dark.”

            Oliver avoided Laurel’s glare as he left.

            He didn’t revel in the idea of rescuing Malcolm Merlyn. But he knew what it was like to be responsible for a parent’s death, and he never wanted Thea to feel that kind of pain.    

            Oliver got there in time to fight Nyssa, in time to watch Merlyn be dragged onto a helicopter, in time to stop Nyssa from getting on it, too. But he wasn’t in time to stop it from leaving.

            “Are you so lost you’d deprive me of my justice?” Nyssa asked accusingly.

            “This isn’t justice, it’s vengeance,” Oliver shot back.

            “Vengeance _is_ justice,” Nyssa replied.

\---

            Barry was already at S.T.A.R. Labs when he noticed his phone was missing. But it was too late to go back for it now. The Starling City team would just have to manage without him.

            “So what’s the plan?” Barry said after he sped in, papers fluttering around, Cisco and Caitlin turning to look at him.

            “We’re trying to get a location on him now,” Cisco replied.

            “We informed him of Wells’ death,” Caitlin added, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know what he wants now.”

            Cisco scoffed. “Just to be a jerk, probably.”

            Caitlin sighed, taking a seat as Cisco kept working on the computer. “So what does Team Arrow think of you being here so often?”

            Barry shrugged. “We haven’t really talked about it.”

            “Your _roommate_ doesn’t have anything to say about it?” Cisco asked, shooting a teasing grin.

            Barry chuckled. “Oliver is pretty preoccupied at the moment.”

            “I hope we’re not taking you away from something important,” Caitlin said, furrowing her brow.

            Barry just waved her off. “They can handle it without me. There are plenty of other people on the team.”

            “Good, because I got something,” Cisco said urgently. “Hartley is back at his family’s building.”

            Barry took off as Cisco called out the address. His feet pounded underneath him as he ran, the lightning streaking behind him. He skidded to a stop, seeing Hartley aiming a mechanical glove at the building.

            “Hartley,” Barry called, walking towards him cautiously. “You don’t have to do this.”

            “I have to do _something,_ ” Hartley snapped back, shooting Barry a glare. “I needed to get back at Wells.”

            “Wells is dead,” Barry said. “Taking down your family’s building won’t change that.”

            “He ruined my life, you know,” Hartley said. “Wells. He fired me because I wasn’t going to let him destroy the city.”

            “What do you mean?” Barry asked. He needed to keep him talking.

            “I knew that the risks for turning on the particle accelerator were substantial,” Hartley continued. “I told him, and he wanted to go ahead anyway. Put everyone at risk. I told him that if he wouldn’t say something, I would.”

            Barry felt himself sympathizing, felt himself softening. As usual, the real villain of Central City has always been Wells. Every meta who has tried to destroy the city, who has killed people, it’s all been Wells’ fault, ultimately. Hartley was just another victim. It was simpler in Starling City, where the villains were villains because they chose to be, not because of Wells' crimes.

            “He fired me and threatened me so I would tell anyone about the danger,” Hartley said, his voice getting lower. “And now, because of what he did, I am in _constant_ pain. I hear _everything_.”

            Barry took a slow step forward.

            Hartley paused, cocking his head to the side. “I hear your heartbeat, Flash,” he said, his voice cold again. “You’re getting ready to run.”

            Barry saw him begin to turn, aim his sonic gloves. He lunged forward before Hartley could do anything, pulling his gloves off and throwing them to the side. “You don’t have to do any of this, Hartley,” Barry said softly. “You can’t hurt Dr. Wells anymore, so stop letting him hurt you.”

            “That’s quite the line,” Hartley replied with a chuckle. “Does that kind of thing usually work in Starling City?”

            Barry couldn’t help but smile at that. “You know, not really.”

            “I’m shocked,” Hartley replied sarcastically.

            With that, Barry sped Hartley and the sonic gloves back to S.T.A.R. Labs. He brought Hartley straight to the makeshift prison, closing him in a cell.

            “Oh, come on,” Hartley protested, smirking a little. “We were really connecting back there.”

            “You were about to use the gloves on me,” Barry said, raising an eyebrow.

            “Well, you talked me out of it with your inspirational line,” Hartley replied, stepping towards the glass. “I’m a changed man now.”

            Cisco scoffed as he walked in, Caitlin following closely behind him. “Sure you are,” he said. “You’re not going anywhere.”

            Hartley smiled, head raised confidently. “You’ll let me out. You just want me to help you find Ronnie.”

            “Will you?” Caitlin asked, her voice a little desperate.

            “Maybe,” Hartley replied. “We can discuss it.”

            “I should really get back to Starling,” Barry said to Cisco. “Be sure to call if you need anything else.”

            “Will do,” Cisco replied, hugging Barry. “Thanks for coming.”

\---

            Barry got back to the foundry, already feeling how heavy and tense the air was. It was a completely different atmosphere.

            Laurel immediately walked over to him, hitting him in the arm. “Where _were_ you?”

            “Ow,” Barry said, frowning and rubbing his arm. “There’s no need for that.”

            “I think there is,” Laurel replied, glaring and crossing her arms. “We’re kind of in the middle of something here, shouldn’t you keep your phone with you?”

            “I’m sorry,” Barry said, putting his arms up. “I really didn’t mean to forget my phone.”

            “What were you doing that was so important?” Laurel asked.

            “I was in Central City,” Barry explained. “There was an emergency. What did I miss?”

            “Well, the League has Merlyn,” Laurel told him. “And Oliver captured Nyssa and is holding her here.”

            Barry raised his eyebrows. “He _what_?”

            “See what you miss when you forget to bring your phone? Go see for yourself,” Laurel said, gesturing to where Nyssa was being held. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed. Oliver and Diggle were standing to the side of the holding cell, talking in hushed voices with their arms crossed.

            Barry walked over, grabbing Oliver’s arm. “Could we talk?” he said.

            Oliver glanced at Diggle, who just shrugged, before following Barry to the other side of the room.

            “What are you _doing_?” Barry asked, looking over at Nyssa.

            “I need her, so I can get Malcolm back. She’s going to tell me where Nanda Parbat is,” Oliver said calmly, standing up straight. “Thea will regret it if Malcolm dies, Barry.”

            “You were afraid of the League coming after you, and now you’re giving them a reason to?” Barry said incredulously. “For Merlyn?”

            “For Thea,” Oliver corrected. He studied Barry’s face for a moment, frowning. “Where were you? You know, after you decided to go behind my back with Laurel.”

            “Don’t change the subject,” Barry replied. “You can’t hold Nyssa prisoner here. This is crossing a line, Oliver.”

            “If I let her go, I’m signing Malcolm’s death sentence. Don’t you get that?” Oliver replied, his voice low.

            “I know,” Barry said with a sigh.

            “Do you really want him to die, Barry?” Oliver continued, taking a step closer to him.     

            “I want him to go to prison,” Barry replied. He cocked his head to the side, crossing his arms. “And what exactly are your plans when you get Merlyn back? Turn him over to the authorities, or let him go?”

            “A prison cell wouldn’t be able to hold Merlyn,” Oliver said.

            “So you’d just let him go is what you’re saying. So he can continue hurting people, like your sister. Continue _killing_ people, like Sara,” Barry replied. “Ideally, Merlyn would stay behind bars for the rest of his life, but I’d rather let the League have him than let him go free.”

            “Well, you weren’t _here_ when we were deciding what to do,” Oliver replied, narrowing his eyes. He took another step forward, so close that Barry almost stumbled backwards.

            “ _We_ weren’t deciding anything. You know damn well that this was all you, because you don’t ask the team anymore. And you wonder why Laurel and I weren't about to just go along with it?” Barry paused, glaring. “And I got called in to Central City,” he continued. “There was an emergency.”

            “There was an emergency _here,_ Barry,” Oliver retorted bitterly. “You might be moving back there and leaving us, but for now, you’re still a member of _this_ team. You can’t just take off like that, not tell anyone where you’re going. We _needed_ you.”

            Barry heard Oliver's voice falter and immediately softened. “Hey,” he said gently, dropping his hard stare and resting a hand on Oliver’s shoulder. He didn’t quite understand what was going on with Oliver, but he could see the hurt. “I’m sorry. You're right. I should’ve called you.”

            “We’re a _team,_ Barry,” Oliver replied, not quite meeting his gaze. “You need to be here.”

            “I know, Ollie,” Barry said. “But I’m not the only one not acting like a team here. Meet me halfway. How about you listen to me for once?”

            Oliver’s lip quirked up slightly. “Fine,” he replied.

            “Let Nyssa go,” Barry said. 

            “You’re not making this easy,” Oliver said, shooting Barry a look.

            “When has this ever been easy?” Barry replied with a grin. He threw an arm over Oliver’s shoulder, leading him back over to the holding cell, as Oliver practically dragged his feet.

            Oliver regained some composure as he looked at Nyssa, meditating quietly. He glanced at the rest of the team, his hand twitching a little nervously. “I need the room,” he said quietly.

            Diggle, Laurel, and Felicity exchanged glances but headed out of the foundry. Barry lingered for a moment, looking at him questioningly. Oliver just squeezed his shoulder lightly and offered a small smile. _Trust me._

            He waited until he was alone with Nyssa to turn back to her. “I’m sorry, Nyssa,” he said evenly.

            She took a breath and opened her eyes, glaring at him coldly. “I do not believe that you are. But you will be.”

            “Nyssa, I am willing to let you go and forget about Merlyn,” he told her. “But I need your word that no matter what, the League will leave Thea and my team alone.”

            “That can be arranged,” she said. She stood up slowly, tilting her head to the side. “You do not wish to ask for your own safety?”

            “Would it do any good?” he asked, but he knew the answer.

            “You challenged my father and lived,” Nyssa replied simply. “He will be coming for you. It is a matter of pride.”

            “That’s what I expected,” Oliver said with a sigh. “As long as my family and my team are left out of it.”

            “You have my word,” Nyssa replied.

            With that, he let her go. Before she left, she told him where Nanda Parbat was, voluntarily. Perhaps in the hopes that he would go there on his own, make it easier on Ra’s.

            He watched her leave the foundry, her head held high. Oliver didn’t feel that confident himself. He didn’t know how much time he would have before Ra’s came back to finish the job. He wasn’t supposed to survive that battle. He knew that. He was strongly considering using the information she’d offered, making it easier on everyone by not giving the League a reason to come back here.

            There was no reason anyone else needed to be put in danger for Oliver’s mistakes.

            He only hoped that he had some time left.

\---

            Oliver and Barry got back to the apartment together. Barry had noticed how quiet Oliver was being, more so than usual, but he didn’t know quite what to make of it. Oliver was often stuck in his own head, and Barry didn’t quite know what to do.

            He figured he’d just give Oliver some space. “Hey, thanks for listening to me today,” Barry said, clapping a hand on Oliver’s shoulder.

            Oliver’s lip quirked up in a small grin. “You have good ideas every once in a while.”

            Barry chuckled, squeezing Oliver’s shoulder before dropping his hand back to his side. “Well, anyway, it’s been a long day,” he sighed, heading towards his room. “I should-”

            Oliver reached out and grabbed Barry’s wrist before he could walk away. He couldn’t help but feel the panic rising in his chest at the thought of losing Barry. It was too much. He wasn’t sure he could do this without Barry anymore. Especially not with the promise of Ra’s coming after him.

            Barry glanced down at Oliver’s hand, and then met his eyes. He noticed Oliver bite his lip, furrow his brow. He leaned back towards Oliver, looking at him expectantly.

            “Barry, don’t go,” Oliver murmured, his gaze locked on Barry’s. He noticed a flicker of confusion in Barry’s eyes before he specified. “Don’t move back to Central City. Please.”

            There was a pause, and then Barry just offered a lopsided grin. “Okay,” he said simply.

            Oliver was quiet for a moment, cocking his head to the side. It took a moment to register, and then a smile grew on his face. “That easy?”

            Barry shrugged. “That easy.”

            “Why?” Oliver couldn’t help but ask. He figured it would take at least a little convincing.

            But Barry rolled his eyes. “You know why, Ollie.”

            “Oh,” Oliver replied softly. He realized he hadn’t let go of Barry’s wrist. “Barry, I-”

            “Oliver, you don’t have to say anything,” Barry replied, his expression getting serious. “It’s okay, really. You don’t have to.”

            Oliver just looked at Barry for a moment. _What did he think I was going to say?_ He rubbed his thumb against Barry’s wrist and pulled him closer. “Will you just let me finish?” he said, smiling.

            Barry just chuckled nervously, hyper-aware of how close they were, of Oliver’s hand slipping into his own.

            Oliver brought a hand up to the side of Barry’s neck, letting his fingers tangle into Barry’s hair. He leaned forward, kissing Barry gently.

            Barry froze for a moment, uncertain, before leaning into Oliver, kissing him back. He wrapped his arm around Oliver’s waist, pulling him closer.  

            Oliver pulled away, barely. “Barry,” he breathed, his lips close enough to brush against Barry’s. “I love you, too.”

            He felt Barry’s lips quirk up into a smile. “Good to know,” Barry murmured.

            Oliver pressed his lips back against Barry’s kissing him hungrily, pushing him into the wall. Barry grunted in surprise as his back hit the wall, his fingers digging in to Oliver’s hips.

            Oliver didn’t want to think about what might happen tomorrow. He didn’t want to think of what was waiting for him in Nanda Parbat, if he decided to go. All he wanted was this, and now, and Barry.

            He pulled away for just a moment to look at Barry, his heart beating fast. Barry just looked at him questioningly, and Oliver just tried to memorize his face. He brushed a thumb over Barry’s cheek, tracing his jawline. Oliver’s chest felt warm. All he could think was just how much he loved this man.

            “Oliver?” Barry said softly.

            “Barry, you’ve changed my life,” Oliver replied, gazing at him warmly.

            Barry chuckled self-consciously. “For the better, I hope.”

            Oliver just smiled in response before kissing him again. He led Barry back to his bedroom, and they tossed their clothes off haphazardly as they fell onto the bed.

            Oliver couldn’t bring himself to care about the League, or Ra’s, or what might happen. As far as he was concerned, there was only this. He and Barry were the only people in the universe for a moment.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait. The next one should be faster.

            The sunlight coming in through the window woke Barry up, falling right onto his face. He tried to turn away from the light when he noticed the arm draped across his chest. It took a moment for him to remember where he was, why he was there.

            Oliver seemed to still be asleep, breathing deeply and steadily against Barry. He smiled to himself for a moment, remembering Oliver’s confession, falling asleep in his arms. It all almost seemed too good to be true.

            But Barry wasn’t about to question it. He was perfectly happy to just lie there blissfully, Oliver’s arm around him. He never really thought that this would happen. When he moved to Starling, he admired the Arrow, admired Oliver. He never thought he’d fall in love.

            He certainly never would’ve expected Oliver to love him back. But here they were. In Oliver’s bed, pressed against each other.

            If there was such a thing as a perfect way to wake up, then this was it. Barry drifted back to sleep, warm from Oliver’s body heat, with a smile on his face.

\---

            Oliver woke up from a dreamless sleep, facing a fast asleep Barry Allen, lips parted slightly. Oliver let himself revel in the moment for a moment, without thinking about all the external complications of their lives. He let himself enjoy waking up next to the man he loved, with the rare for Starling City morning sunlight coming in through the window.

            It was almost enough to make Oliver want to quit being the Arrow and run away, to some other city, where he could wake up like this every morning. He felt an ache in his chest as he thought about that life, that life that he and Barry could have in some alternate world, where he was never the Arrow and Barry was never the Flash. He imagined some world where he and Barry met in college, while he was flunking out and Barry was getting straight A’s. Some world where they met in a coffee shop, with normal lives and normal purposes. Some world where they could be themselves and that would be enough.

            _We could have that,_ a passing thought whispered. _Just imagine it._

            Quitting the vigilante business. Moving to Coast City, where the white collar villains of Starling City and the meta-humans of Central City couldn’t demand their attention. They could get a new place, with just one bedroom since they wouldn’t need two anymore. They could get normal day jobs, always be home for dinner, never worry that the other wouldn’t come home one night. Just run away from all this. Have their friends and family visit on weekends and holidays. Trust the rest of the teams to take care of their cities. Never look back.

            Oliver reached over, gently brushing Barry’s hair off his forehead. Barry stirred slightly, murmuring some nonsense from whatever dream he was having. Oliver smiled affectionately, as he thought about how that plan would never work. Barry would never stop being the Flash. He was always meant to be a hero. Oliver doubted there was a single alternate world where Barry Allen wasn’t a hero, in some way or another. In an alternate world where Oliver never got stranded on Lian Yu, he might’ve remained a lazy, careless frat boy, but Barry’s heroism was in his blood.

            In that alternate world where Oliver never became the Arrow, Barry Allen never would have loved him anyway.

            Oliver pushed himself up, sliding off the bed carefully to not wake Barry up. He lingered in the doorway for a moment before leaving the room, basking in the memory of last night and the image of Barry, shirtless in his bed.

\---

            Barry blinked awake, unsure of how long he’d slept. He rolled over, stretching, turning towards where Oliver had been. But he was met with rumpled sheets and an empty pillow.

            He let out a sigh. He should’ve known it had been too good to be true. Oliver was probably back at the foundry, hiding from him, because he didn’t know how to tell him that they couldn’t be together. Barry shouldn’t be surprised.

            Barry pushed himself off the bed, leaning against the wall for a moment to pull himself together. He had to keep his expectations low here. He shouldn’t have gotten so caught up in the moment last night. He shouldn’t have expected things to be different. Of course nothing has changed.

            He searched the floor for his clothes, pulling his boxers and his jeans back on. He wasn’t about to have to awkwardly ask Oliver for his clothes back later.

            Half-heartedly, Barry dragged himself to the kitchen to make himself some coffee. He just about fell over when he saw Oliver there. Cooking an omelet. And not wearing a shirt. Hair still a little wet from the shower.

            Barry steadied himself on the counter. “Ollie,” he said, not at all masking his surprise. “Why are you- I didn’t- We… You’re still here.”

            Oliver just smiled, arching an eyebrow. “Where else would I be?”

            Barry rubbed the back of his neck and let out a nervous chuckle. “When I woke up and you weren’t there, I thought…”

            Oliver shook his head. “No,” he said quickly. “I was just… I was going to bring you breakfast.” _He thought I left. Of course he did. What reason would he have to expect anything better from me?_

            “We’ve lived together this long, and I didn’t even know you could cook,” Barry replied, leaning against the fridge, letting himself relax. _He stayed. He’s here._

            Oliver laughed, an open, easy laugh that Barry was not particularly accustomed to hearing. “We don’t usually have the time to cook.”

            “Fair point,” Barry replied. “I mean, the job is great, but the hours suck.”

            “No kidding,” Oliver said. He glanced over at Barry. “I turned off our phones, though. So we should be safe for this morning.”

            Barry raised his eyebrows. “There’s something I never would’ve expected from you.”

            “What can I say? I think we’ve earned a little time to ourselves.” Oliver slid the omelet onto a plate, handing it to Barry.

            “Well, I’m not going to argue with that.” Barry sat up on the kitchen counter to eat his omelet while Oliver made one for himself. He decided not to question Oliver’s change of heart or his good mood. He didn’t want to ruin it. “This is really good. Thanks.”

            “Anytime.”

            “You really shouldn’t make that promise. I’ll take you up on it, and you know how much I eat. Don’t test me.”

            Oliver laughed. “Anytime, within reason,” he amended. He looked over at Barry, unable to keep the smile off his face. All of this, it was what he wanted. After all these years of believing he’d never be able to have a normal life, or a normal relationship, this felt nothing short of perfect. Barry, with his bedhead and sleep still in his eyes, smiling at him lovingly. Oliver wanted that morning to last forever.

            But if he did go to Nanda Parbat, if Ra’s killed him, if he had to do that… Well, at least he would have had this memory to hold on to. At least he would have gotten to love Barry while he had the chance.

            “So what should we do with our morning off?” Barry asked.

            Oliver shot him a smirk. “I can think of a few things.”

            Barry just about choked on his omelet. Oliver burst out laughing. He leaned over and kissed Barry on the cheek.

            Barry caught his cheek and pulled him forward, gently kissing his lips, smiling. “I could get used to this,” he murmured.

            Oliver pulled back to look at Barry for a moment, slipping his hand into Barry’s. He smiled, a little sadly. “Me too,” he said, his voice quiet.

            Barry noticed the shift in mood immediately. His smile faded. “Oh, no. What is it now?”

            Oliver shook his head. “Can we just enjoy this?” _While it lasts._

            Barry arched an eyebrow. “Come on, Ollie.”

            He sighed, squeezing Barry’s hand before pulling away, leaning again the counter next to him. “I’m still not safe from the League.”

            “But I thought that…” Barry started.

            Oliver was already shaking his head. “Thea’s safe from them. The team is. But I still challenged Ra’s and lived.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nyssa told me when Nada Parbat is.”

            “You’re planning of turning yourself over to them?” Barry asked.

            Oliver glanced over at Barry before staring at the floor. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

            “Well, I do,” Barry said. “We’ve been through this before, Ollie. You don’t have to do any of this alone.”

            “I can’t let the team or Thea get hurt because of me,” Oliver replied. “I’m the one who challenged Ra’s and lost. If I just go turn myself over, they won’t come here and everyone else will be safe.”

            “We’re your team for a reason, Ollie,” Barry replied. He reached over and touched Oliver’s shoulder. “But if you insist on going to Nanda Parbat… Listen, I get it. You want to protect everyone. You want to protect Thea. I won’t stop you. But I _will_ go with you.”

            “Barry-” Oliver started to say, shaking his head.

            “I can’t stop you from going, and you can’t stop me from following,” Barry interrupted. He smiled, putting his arm around Oliver’s bare shoulders and pulling him closer. “I’m not letting you do this alone.”

            Oliver didn’t say anything for a few moments, feeling a little uneasy but also warm. He nudged Barry’s ribs. “Thanks,” he said softly.

            “Anytime,” Barry replied.

            Oliver glanced over at him. “You shouldn’t make that promise,” he said, quoting Barry. “I’ll take you up on it.”

            Barry grinned and leaned forward to kiss Oliver. “Anytime,” he repeated more firmly as he pulled away. “But Ollie, I still think you should let the whole team help here.”

            Oliver shook his head. “It’s too dangerous,” he said. “They could get hurt.”

            “So could you,” Barry replied. But he didn’t press the issue. Oliver was going to let him help at least. The rest of the team could stay safe in Starling City, and Barry could protect Oliver in Nanda Parbat. He wouldn’t let anything happen to Oliver. He wasn’t going to go through that again.

            “So I’m guessing you’re going to want more food,” Oliver said, walking back over to the stove. “Any requests?”

            “I could go for some pancakes,” Barry replied, jumping off the counter. “Can I help?”

            “You can get all the ingredients from the cupboard,” Oliver said. He paused and looked over at Barry. “At a normal speed. Can’t have flour flying everywhere.”

            Barry chuckled. “Alright, I got it.”

\---

            They lounged around the apartment until early afternoon, keeping the door closed and the blinds drawn. Oliver was getting anxious about avoiding their responsibilities, but he was trying not to show it. After all, when could they get another chance like this?

            It was Barry who brought up returning to the real world first. “You know, just because our phones are off doesn’t mean everything has just stopped.”

            Oliver sighed. “I know. We should probably…”

            “Yeah,” Barry said, not hiding his reluctance.

            Oliver went to grab their phones from his bedroom. He was chuckling as he returned. “Look at that, no missed calls or texts. It's a miracle.”

            “Well, I guess the city can survive just fine without us after all,” Barry said, grinning. He grabbed Oliver’s wrist and pulled him back down to the couch.

            Oliver lingered over that thought for a moment. The city would be okay without him. Without the Arrow. Without the Flash.

            It was an intriguing idea, anyway.

            “Are you at least going to tell the rest of the team before going to Nanda Parbat?” Barry asked.

            “I was barely planning on telling you,” Oliver admitted. “They don’t know that Thea’s deal couldn’t have helped me. They don’t know the League is still after me.”

            “Are you really even sure the League is still after you?”

            “According to Nyssa, yes.”

            “What if she’s lying?” Barry asked, clinging to the sliver of hope.

            “What if she isn’t?” Oliver replied. He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not just that, it’s… I can’t stop seeing it, feeling it. The fall. He beat me, Barry. This is just something I need to do.”

            “So, what’s the plan? We just walk in to Nanda Parbat? ‘Hey, you killed me but it didn’t work, wanna try again?’”

            Oliver leaned on his arm and sighed. “Well, when you put it like that…”

            “It sounds crazy?” Barry finished for him. “Ollie, it _is_ crazy.”

            “Barry, just the fact that there’s someone that dangerous out there who can beat me… And I can’t just let them come here,” Oliver replied. “You don’t know what they’re capable of.”

            “I think I guess from the name alone,” Barry said. “I get why you’re doing this, Ollie, but we need some kind of plan. How are we going to do this?”

            “I’m just going to walk up to the front door,” Oliver said. “You’re going to hang back and wait.”

            “You can’t really think I’m going to do that,” Barry said.

            “You have to,” Oliver replied. “If we both get caught, we’re both dead. Because of Nyssa, they’re expecting me. They can’t know you’re there.”

            “And what’ll happen to you?” Barry wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

            “It depends on what Ra’s decides,” Oliver replied evenly. “He might allow a rematch. Or he might insist on executing me.”

            Barry tensed a little. Oliver said it so calmly, and Barry felt his heart beating faster at the thought. They should really bring the team in on this, Barry thought. They shouldn’t do this alone.

            “I won’t let that happen,” Barry replied.

            Oliver raised his eyebrows. “I don’t need you to protect me, Barry.”

            “I know,” Barry said. He nudged Oliver with his shoulder. “But you have me anyway.”

            Oliver smiled, letting himself believe for a brief moment that they really could get through all this.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking place during the first half of Arrow 3.16.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really like this chapter. I don't really like this entire plotline in the show, so I'm writing kinda slowly right now.

            They didn’t tell the team. They just said that Barry had some business to attend to in Central City, and that Oliver was going, too. They didn’t explain. They didn’t warn them. They had no extra back up. Barry and Oliver were on their own.

            Oliver had the coordinates. Barry had the speed. It was all they needed. They had to believe that they would be able to return, with their team never knowing the difference.

            “Maybe you shouldn’t just walk in,” Barry said, when they were just close enough for the situation to hit him. They were going to the heart of League of Assassins, and no one knew where they were. No one would know where to look.

            “Barry, it’ll be okay,” Oliver replied. “Trust me.”

            “Maybe we should check the perimeter first,” Barry continued. “Or sneak inside to see what we’re dealing with.”

            “Barry,” Oliver repeated.

            “What if he won’t accept a rematch? What if he just executes you on the spot?” Barry ran his fingers through his hair anxiously. “We didn’t think this through. This was a bad idea. We should go back.”

            “Barry, we’re already here,” Oliver said. “We need to do this.”

            “Did you double check the comms? Because if they stop working, I won’t know if you need help, and I-”

            “The comms are working fine, I’ll be able to tell you if I need you.” Oliver reached over a squeezed Barry’s shoulder. “Relax.”

            Barry scoffed and shot Oliver a look. “There’s no way I’ll be able to relax.” He could already feel his skin prickling. “We shouldn’t be doing this. We should bring the rest of the team.”

            “Barry, I was going to go alone,” Oliver replied. “You’re more than enough here.”

            Barry softened a little bit. “I’m glad you’re not here alone.”

            Oliver leaned over and kissed Barry gently on the lips. “Me too.”

\---

            Oliver walked towards the doors, slowly and confidently. He could see members of the League up in the rocks in the hills in his peripheral vision. They weren’t making any moves towards him. Nyssa must have given them the orders.

            He kept his shoulders back and his head high. He was only a few yards away from the entrance when Nyssa appeared.

            “I see you came,” she said.

            “I didn’t think I had all that much of a choice,” Oliver replied steadily. He knew that the League would have come after his city if he hadn’t, just like Nyssa had tried to do when they were taking too long to find Sara’s killer.

            “Wise decision.” Nyssa turned and walked inside. Oliver took the cue to follow her.

            She led him through the dark halls, with chandeliers and stone walls. Oliver didn’t know quite what he’d expected from the League of Assassins, but this seemed appropriate.

            Malcolm Merlyn was in here somewhere. Dead or being killed. Oliver tried to push those thoughts away. He didn’t want to dwell on the image of Thea’s father dying. The team had decided. No rescue mission.

            He couldn’t help but think of the time that Sara must have spent here. None of this would have happened if he just hadn’t invited her onto the Gambit.

            But it was far too late to revisit that particular regret.

\---

            It hadn’t been that long.

            Barry kept repeating this to himself. It didn’t make him any calmer.

            He paced back and forth, finding standing still or sitting excruciating. But it hadn’t been that long. It’s not like he expected the meeting to be quick and for everything to go perfectly.

            Barry just really hated waiting. He hated waiting in general, just as a rule. But this was so much worse. He had no idea what was happening, or what was going to happen. He just wanted to try to reason with Nyssa, maybe beg a little for them to be left alone.

            It would happen like this, Barry thought. Just when Oliver confessed his feelings, just when it felt like everything was going to be okay, just when it seems like things are falling into place, Oliver has to put himself in danger for the sake of everyone else.

            He tried to avoid checking the time. Every time he did, barely five minutes had passed. Since becoming a speedster, the way time moves had become different for Barry, but this was just something else entirely.

            “Oliver, everything okay?” he said softly into the comms.

            There was no reply. Which wasn’t surprising. Oliver couldn’t afford to let the League know he had backup waiting.

            The problem was that there was no noise at all. No feedback. Nothing. The comms weren’t working. Barry felt panic rising.  There must be no signal. Oliver had no way of calling for help.

            He hesitated for a moment. It wasn’t like he knew where to go, or if Oliver was even in trouble. It would be dangerous to just run in, risk the League seeing him and risk them knowing that Oliver hadn’t come alone.

            But what if Oliver was hurt, or about to be? He wouldn’t know.

            Barry didn’t give it much more thought past that. The fact of the matter was that he’d come here as backup for Oliver, and now Oliver had no way of calling him. If the League saw him, well, he’d deal with that when it came up.

            Barry walked slowly and cautiously until he could see a little around the bend, looking at the tall, menacing stone walls of Nanda Parbat. There would be guards everywhere watching, surely. He had to be fast enough that they wouldn’t notice him slip by.

            He took a deep breath, letting time slow down around him, and he ran.

            The first thing he stumbled on was not Oliver. It wasn’t a clue as to where Oliver was, or if he was okay.

            Barry’s heart just about dropped into his stomach.

            Malcolm Merlyn was hanging by his arms, bloody and beaten, hovering over red hot coals. His eyes were closed and his mouth open, completely limp.

            Barry felt sick. Guilt rose in the back of his throat as he stood there, frozen. He’d been one of the people that told Oliver to let Merlyn go. He’d been on the side that would’ve allowed this to happen. He hadn’t wanted to rescue Merlyn. He was going to let the League take him, without a second thought to what they would do.

            It didn’t matter what Malcolm had done. He didn’t deserve this. No one did.

            Barry’s heart hurt as he thought of how he could’ve sided with Oliver. He should’ve. He didn’t know what it meant to let the League take Malcolm. He certainly wouldn’t have imagined torture.

            But what did he expect? He should’ve known. He should’ve _realized._

            “Malcolm,” he said softly, taking some hesitant steps forward. _Please be alive._

            Merlyn’s eyes opened slightly, but he didn’t move or make a sound.

            “Hold on,” he said. “Let me help.”

            Merlyn opened his mouth, with a couple shallow, gasping breaths are Barry tried to get him down. “Trap,” he managed to get out.

            Barry froze as he heard the noise from behind him. He spun around, seeing the League members approaching, aiming arrows. There were too many of them. He couldn’t fight them. He had to be fast enough to get out of there.

            He inhaled deeply, feeling the lightning in his veins. The world shifted into slow motion as the arrows were released, flying towards him. Barry sped forward, pulling them from the air and dropping them to the floor.

            He turned back to Merlyn, getting him down as quickly as possible as the guards stepped closer.

            Then the gate started to lower, threatening to close Barry and Merlyn in. Barry grabbed Malcolm, barely making it out before the gate was lowered. He ran back out as fast as he could, leaving the guards and Oliver behind him.

            He made it back to where he and Oliver had agreed to meet, letting Malcolm sit almost limp against a rock.

            He just had to hope that Oliver wasn’t in trouble.

\---

            Ra’s Al Ghul’s main room wasn’t quite what Oliver expected, though he supposed he didn’t know what to expect at all. The room was large, with high, echoing ceilings. Nyssa greeted her father first before Ra’s dismissed her from the room. She shot a glare back at Oliver before leaving.

            “Mr. Queen,” Ra’s Al Ghul said, his voice steady and cold. His presence made Oliver distinctly uneasy. “Welcome to Nanda Parbat.”

            Oliver didn’t reply, just tried his best to maintain eye contact. He tried to ignore the ache in his abdomen from where Ra’s had stabbed him. He tried to ignore his memory of free falling off the cliff, of being half dead. Of losing.

            “Was dying once not enough for you, Oliver?” Ra’s said with a small, satisfied smile.

            “I imagine my survival was less than the ideal for you,” Oliver replied, as calmly as he could.

            “On the contrary,” Ra’s said, taking a few steps forward.

            Oliver narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out what Ra’s was playing at.

            “You see, Mr. Queen, everyone and everything must come to an end,” he continued. “Even for one such as me.”

            Ra’s pulled out his sword, pointing it towards Oliver’s neck.

            Oliver didn’t flinch. “Kill me,” he said. “But keep the League out of Starling City, and leave my team alone.”

            “Like your partner, waiting outside for you?” Ra’s replied. “Barry Allen, is it?”

            Oliver stiffened. _They knew who Barry was._

            “I am willing to forgive his crime here, releasing Merlyn,” he said. “Mr. Allen will be allowed to return to Starling City with Malcolm Merlyn.”

            _What?_ Oliver tried not to let his confusion show in his expression. He needed to maintain his calm demeanor.

            “There’s just one thing I require in return.”

            “And what is that?” _He’s going to kill me._ But Oliver had made his peace with that.

            “You have shown tremendous strength. I don’t want to kill you, Mr. Queen.” Ra’s narrowed his eyes, pausing. “I want you to take my place. I want you to become the next Ra’s al Ghul.”

            Oliver’s mouth ran dry. He wanted to think he hadn’t heard correctly. But he knew that he had.

            Ra’s said something in another language, a language Oliver had never heard before. “Am I supposed to understand what that means?”

            Ra’s looked almost amused by the question. “No,” he replied. “It’s from a dialect no longer spoken. Said to me by a man whose place I took, contemplating the same offer. It means ‘The tale to be told begins thus.’”

            Ra’s turned and began to walk out of the room. Oliver took his cue to follow.

            He didn’t quite understand what was happening here, but he didn’t quite want to ask Ra’s for an explanation. He wasn’t being killed, in any case. And neither was Barry.

            Ra’s brought him into a large room, with a long table full of food. He sat down at the head and gestured for Oliver to sit, too.

            “Is all of this supposed to impress me?” Oliver asked.

            “No,” Ra’s replied. “To inform you. Surely, men have branded you a murderer, a torturer.”

            Oliver clenched his jaw and lowered his gaze.

            “You see, I would never shame you with such bluntness. Because I see it in your eyes.” Ra’s paused until Oliver looked back at him. “The struggle you have with your dual identity. Oliver Queen and the Arrow. Neither giving you what you crave.”

            “But becoming Ra’s al Ghul will?” Oliver replied. He was barely able to keep the disdain from his tone.

            “Oliver Queen is a man destined to be alone,” Ra’s said.

            His tone was so cool, so matter-of-fact. There was a time when those words, that sentiment, wouldn’t have hit Oliver so hard. But today, that thought just pierced right through his chest. Who was he kidding anyway? Destined to be alone. He’d always known that. Why did it hurt to hear it now? He _knew._

            “You don’t know me,” Oliver replied, and he heard just how empty his voice sounded.

            “But I know the Arrow. Al Sah-Him will never be anything more than a vigilante for those whose lives you save at the risk of your own,” Ra’s said. “Your city will turn on you. And your closest allies within the police department will call you a criminal. You will be scorned and hunted and then killed, dying as you began your crusade. _Alone._ ”

            _Alone._ Of course. Always. That dream of living a normal life had been just that- a dream.

            _He’s wrong,_ Oliver tried to tell himself.

            “You could command resources you cannot fathom, Mr. Queen,” Ra’s continued. “Your crusade would not need to be confined to a single city. You cannot yet imagine the power you would wield as Ra’s.”

            Oliver took a breath and looked back at Ra’s challengingly. “And what if I say no? What makes you think I’d ever agree to this?”

            Ra’s almost smiled. “Then you are free to leave with Merlyn and Mr. Allen, as a gesture of goodwill. All debts forgiven. All blood oaths waived.”

            Oliver hesitated for a moment. This was definitely too good to be true. There were bound to be strings attached. He didn’t question it. He merely rose from the table and walked towards the exit.

            Become the next leader of the League of Assassins. What kind of offer was that?

\---

            Barry paced, trying to calm himself down. He kept telling himself Oliver would be okay, but he wasn’t sure if he believed it. He wanted to run back in, but he wasn’t sure he could leave Merlyn alone.

            He just needed to know that Oliver was still alive. Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe the League was going to let him live. Or maybe Barry had just sentenced him to death by breaking Merlyn out.

            He raked his hands through his hair. What else could he have done? He couldn’t leave Merlyn there to suffer and die. It wasn’t right. But how could he live with himself if Oliver had paid for that decision?

            But right when Barry was considering running back, Oliver walked around the bend.

            Barry let out a sigh of relief and rushed over, clapping a hand on Oliver’s shoulder. “Are you alright? What happened in there?”

            Oliver’s gaze flicked over to Malcolm before he looked back at Barry, an eyebrow arched.

            “Yeah, um. So I may have rescued Merlyn.”

            “I can see that,” Oliver replied flatly. “What were you saying back at the foundry again?”

            "Listen, I know,” Barry said. “But they were…”

            “What did you expect?”

            “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I never really _expect_ torture. But I couldn’t… I couldn’t just leave him there. It wasn’t right.”

            Oliver nodded. “I know, Bar.”

            “So, uh… What happened?”

            “They’re going to let us go. With Merlyn.”

            Barry frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

            Oliver rubbed the back of his neck, shooting Barry a pained look. “They’re willing to forgive Merlyn’s crimes. And now yours, for breaking him out.”

            Barry narrowed his eyes. “And what about you?”

            “Let’s just say Ra’s had a change of heart,” Oliver replied evenly. “We need to get back to Starling City.”

            “Ollie…”

            “Later, Bar,” Oliver repeated. He put a hand on Barry’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “I promise.”

            Barry just took a break and clenched his jaw, studying Oliver’s face. This didn’t feel right.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of Arrow 3.16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is short. Did you miss me? I missed you guys. I'm also sorry it's been over a month. But hey, look at that, it's finals week again, and I'm incredibly predictable.

              “So Merlyn is temporarily in the pipeline at S.T.A.R. Labs,” Barry said as he sped back in to the apartment. He leaned against the wall. “You told Thea?”

              Oliver nodded. “She wasn’t exactly thrilled, but…”

              Barry chuckled. “Yeah, well, neither was Laurel.”

              “That’s about what we expected.”

              “Alright, so it’s all taken care of. Merlyn is locked up and the team knows what we did.” Barry tilted his head and looked at Oliver, crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you going to tell me what Ra’s said?”

              “I don’t know if now’s the time,” Oliver replied, sitting down on the couch.

              Barry raised an eyebrow. “Don’t do that, Ollie.”

              “Fair enough,” Oliver said. He took a deep breath, looking at the ceiling, or the floor, or anywhere that wasn’t Barry. “He asked me to take his place. As Ra’s. In the League.”

              Barry let out an incredulous laugh. “I’m sorry- _what?”_

              “He said he wanted me to be his successor,” Oliver continued. “Told me I’d have resources and power that I couldn’t even imagine. That my crusade wouldn’t be confined to a single city.”

              Barry didn’t like the tone in Oliver’s voice. “You said no, right?”

              Oliver paused. He avoided Barry’s gaze. “I didn’t technically answer.”

              “You can’t be considering this.”

              “I don’t know, I mean…”

              “Ollie, it’s the League of Assassins.”

              “Barry, do you know how much I could _do?_ How much I could change?” Oliver frowned, rubbing the back of his neck. He wasn’t quite sure how to get this across. “I could stop the League from killing. Put their resources to better use. I mean…”

              Barry didn’t answer. He just stared for a few moments.

              “Barry, I…” Oliver finally met his eyes. “How much good has the Arrow really done? My mother is dead, Tommy, Sara... Crime hasn’t gone down in the last few years, it’s gone _up._ Have I really even made this city better at all? Has my crusade actually… accomplished anything?”

              “Oliver, come on.”

              “Seriously, Barry. All of this, the last few years of my life, it hasn’t… It hasn’t amounted to anything. I didn’t start this to be a hero. And I’m not one. Roy, Dig, Laurel, you… You’re the ones who wanted to make the world better. You’re the heroes. I just wanted to make up for what my father had done.”

              “Where is all this coming from?” Barry said, walking over and sitting down next to Oliver on the couch.

              “There might be better ways for me to make a difference than being the Arrow,” Oliver replied, his voice soft. “The city has enough vigilantes. In the League, I could…”

              “You really think you can change the League, Ollie?” Barry said.

              Oliver glanced at the floor. “I could try. I could make a difference, Barry.”

              “Oliver…”

              “Being Oliver Queen, being the Arrow… It’s not enough. It’s never been enough. Maybe being Ra’s al Ghul would be.”

              Barry was at a loss for words. He wasn’t sure if anything he could’ve said would’ve helped anyway. He didn’t want to get angry or fight with Oliver here. He didn’t know what kind of reassurance he could offer that Oliver wouldn’t just take as biased.

              “That’s not true, Oliver,” he said softly. He didn’t know what else he could say.

              Oliver chuckled. “Well, you’ve always believed in the Arrow.”

              Barry shook his head. “The Arrow is kind of a dick,” he replied with a small smile. “I believe in Oliver Queen.”

              Oliver laughed. “Barry…”

              “Just promise me,” Barry started. “That you won't do anything stupid."

             "You know I can never promise that."

             Barry smiled. "It was worth a shot."

              He slipped his hand into Oliver’s, lacing their fingers together and squeezing. _I believe in you, Ollie. I always believe in you._

\---

              It had been a few days since Oliver and Barry had returned from Nanda Parbat. Oliver hadn’t brought up taking Ra’s al Ghul’s place again, and Barry just hoped that meant he wasn’t sincerely considering it.

              Barry walked out of the precinct after work, tired and ready to go home, when he ran right into Nyssa. She was wearing regular clothes, standing off to the side of the stairs.

              “Nyssa?” he said, a little taken aback. “What are you doing here?”

              She looked back at the door of the precinct, seeming like she didn’t quite want to answer. “I was looking for Laurel, actually. Is she still in there?”

              “Yeah,” Barry replied slowly. “What did you want with Laurel?”

              “Just to see her,” Nyssa replied.

              “Shouldn’t you be back in Nanda Parbat?” Barry asked.

              She looked back at him. “I know what my father offered to Oliver. I know that he wants Oliver to be his successor instead of me.”

              “Oh,” Barry said, his heart beating faster.

              “I am not here to challenge Oliver for the position,” Nyssa replied coolly. “If my father is willing to choose an outsider to take his place, I am not interested in fighting for it. My father always disapproved of my love for Sara, and he is punishing me for it. But I am _not_ ashamed and I would sooner leave the League of Assassins than let my father attempt to make me ashamed.”

              Barry relaxed his shoulders, relieved that Nyssa wasn’t here to fight Oliver. He paused a moment, finding himself curious. “If you were to become the next Ra’s, what would you do? Would you lead like your father does?”

              “There is much my father does that I do not agree with,” Nyssa said simply. She didn’t elaborate.

              “You don’t really seem like a killer,” Barry said.

              Nyssa narrowed her eyes. “You don’t know me, Mr. Allen.”

              “Right, sorry,” Barry replied with a nervous laugh. “I think Laurel was going to stay late. Do you want me to go tell her you’re looking for her?”

              Nyssa paused for a moment, seeming unsure. “Yes. Thank you, Barry.”

              Barry just nodded, heading back inside quickly. If Oliver’s concern was how he could change the League, Barry thought, maybe he didn’t really have much to worry about. Nyssa was reasonable. If she took over the League, it seemed like they would be able to come to an agreement. She seemed like she would lead the League fairly, anyway.

              He got to Captain Lance’s office, seeing Laurel in there with him. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said with a smile. “There’s someone outside for you, Laurel.”

              Laurel looked at him questioningly, turning to her dad to say goodbye before heading outside.

\---

              In the foundry, Oliver was just finishing up working out when Diggle came in.

              “Dig,” he greeted. “I thought you’d be back home with Lyla and Sara.”

              “I was,” Diggle said. “I just had something I needed to ask you. I wasn’t sure when we could get a moment alone.”

              Oliver looked up at him, moving away from what he was doing and taking a seat near Diggle. “What’s going on?”

              Diggle sat down next to him, offering a small smile. “Lyla and I are going to get married. I wanted to ask if you’d be my best man. It would mean a lot to me.”

              Oliver smiled. This was a such a normal-life thing to ask. He slipped back into imagining a normal life he could have, where a friend asking him to be a part of their wedding didn’t seem so foreign. “Of course,” Oliver replied.  

              “Thanks,” Diggle said. He hesitated a moment, studying Oliver’s face. “Now I wanted to ask… What happened in Nanda Parbat? You’ve been acting different.”

              “Ra’s al Ghul, he…” Oliver started. “He asked me to be his successor.”

              “You’re joking,” Diggle replied, raising his eyebrows.

              Oliver shook his head. “It’s why he let me and Barry go.”

              “You said yes?” Diggle asked sharply.

              “No,” Oliver replied with a short laugh. “He said it was sign of good faith. He’d let go of any debts or blood oaths so I’d consider it.”

              “You aren’t, though, right? Considering it?”

              “I don’t think so,” Oliver replied slowly. He wasn’t quite sure.

              “Oliver,” Diggle replied. “You shouldn’t be thinking about it at all. Look at everything you’ve done here. You’ve saved countless lives. You inspired the rest of us. You didn’t just give Starling City one here, Oliver, you gave it a whole team of heroes.”

              Oliver smiled. “You’re pretty good at these speeches, you know?”

              “Of course I know,” Diggle said. “So you’ll say no?”

              Oliver nodded. “I’ll say no.”

\---

              Which is exactly what he told Maseo when he came to get an answer.

              “The tale to be told begins thus,” Maseo replied, echoing what Ra’s had told Oliver before.

              “Maseo, this story- it’s over before it begins,” Oliver replied, his voice clear and sure.

              “You misunderstand,” Maseo said. “It does not mean to tale is yet to unfold. It means Ra’s has already written it. The choice has been made.”

              “No,” Oliver said simply.

              “If you insist on pursuing this path of resistance, there will be consequences.”

              So much for the sign of good faith. “Is that a threat?”

              “It is the will of Ra’s al Ghul.”

              Oliver watched as Maseo walked away. An uneasy feeling settled in his stomach. This wasn’t over. He was still a target of the League. He supposed Ra’s was never really giving him a choice to begin with.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking place Arrow 3.17.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, I completely forget what has and hasn't happened, and I have to go back several chapters to figure it out.

              “Barry, _hurry up,”_ Oliver called, leaning against the front door, periodically glancing at his watch. They were never going to make it to Diggle’s wedding on time.

              “Sorry, I’m almost ready!” Barry yelled back.

              “How are you always running late, Bar?” Oliver said with a sigh.

              “Like you’re much better,” Barry retorted.

              Oliver rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. Bickering over running late to a friend’s wedding was such a wonderfully, _beautifully_ ordinary issue to have. They weren’t the Arrow or the Flash. Not today. Oliver didn’t want to admit quite how comforting that thought was.

              The more he thought about it, the more he realized how much he wanted a normal life.

              Barry sped over, his hair still a mess. “Okay, let’s go.”

              Oliver glared. “You know, the invitation said one.”

              “And it’s twelve fifty,” Barry replied. “We’re _early.”_

              “We haven’t even left yet-” Oliver started to say. He noticed Barry’s grin a second too late and was caught off guard as Barry sped him away. They stopped at the corner, less than a block away from the wedding but just out of sight.

              Barry didn’t move his hand from Oliver’s lower back. “See? Plenty of time.”

              Oliver raised an eyebrow. “Your shoes are burning.”

              Barry chuckled, stomping away a few sparks. “I mean, barely.”

              Oliver laughed, shaking his head. “Come on, let’s head inside,” he said.

              The reception hall was beautiful, and Oliver realized he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been to a wedding. He supposed he must have missed a few during his five years away.

              “I’m going to go say hi to Felicity and Laurel,” Barry said. He squeezed Oliver’s hand and kissed his cheek quickly. “Diggle seems like he wants to talk to you.”

              Oliver’s eyes followed Barry for a moment before he headed over to Diggle.

              “You’re late,” Diggle said immediately.

              “Blame Barry,” Oliver replied.

              Diggle raised his eyebrows, glancing over at where Barry was laughing with Felicity. “So,” Diggle said. “You and Barry.”

              “Me and Barry,” Oliver confirmed.

              Diggle nodded. “Good for you.”

              Oliver smiled, looking over at Barry. They hadn’t exactly defined the relationship yet. They’d been a little preoccupied. But this felt right. It felt good. Oliver hadn’t heard from League again, and Merlyn was still safely in S.T.A.R. Labs. Diggle was getting married, Felicity had brought Ray as her date. Everything felt like it was falling into place.

              And as Oliver caught Barry’s eye from across the room, and Barry’s face lit up as he smiled, Oliver couldn’t help but wonder if it could always be like this.

              Barry’s optimism might’ve been rubbing off on him.

\---

              After the ceremony, at the reception, the wedding party was taking some unofficial pictures before the first dance. Barry lingered near the edge of the room.

              Felicity walked over to him, smiling. “Beautiful ceremony,” she said.

              Barry smiled back and nodded. “It’s a good thing Ray was here to fill in as the minister.”

              She nodded back and looked at her feet. “I hope it’s okay that I brought him.”

              “Why wouldn’t it be?” Barry replied.

              “I don’t know,” she said with a sigh. “I guess it’s just still weird for me. I mean, he did buy Oliver’s family’s company. And Oliver wasn’t exactly… fond of him.”

              “I’m sure that Oliver’s just happy you’re happy,” Barry said.

              Felicity glanced at him. “For the record, I’m happy that Oliver’s happy, too.”

              Barry smiled. “I’m sure he appreciates that.”

              “Not to pry, but are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Felicity said, her voice getting lower. “I mean, Oliver is… Oliver.”

              “I can handle Oliver,” Barry replied.

              “No, I know,” Felicity said. “Just… Be careful, okay? I don’t want to see you get hurt. It’s hard to tell with Oliver. He’s… complicated. He has a tendency to freak out when things get real and close himself off. I just… Don’t want to see that happen to you.”

              “I appreciate your concern, Felicity, I do,” Barry replied, a hand on her shoulder. “But I know what I’m doing.”

              Felicity smiled, still looking a little worried. “Okay.”

              They were interrupted by both of their phones going off at the same time. They exchanged a concerned look before checking. Barry found it hard to breathe when he saw the headline- _Arrow Returns to Killing._

              “I have to go find Ollie,” Barry said, quickly turning away, barely holding himself back from speeding off.

              When he found Oliver and Diggle, it was clear they’d already seen the headline, too.

\---

              Back at the foundry, they gathered around one of the computer screens to watch the press conference with Captain Lance, Ray, and Laurel.

              “There were eight victims total, all shot with arrows,” Lance was saying. “However, one escaped and has given us a statement.”

              “Which remains uncorroborated, so the district attorney’s office is going to continue to investigate before filing charges,” Laurel interjected.

              “We have a statement from Mr. Palmer,” the mayor said, moving aside so that Ray could get in front of the microphone.

              Barry glanced at Felicity, who looked like she was feeling nauseous.

              “While it’s hard to ignore all the good the Arrow has done for this city, it is equally hard to ignore the evidence of his guilt,” Ray said. “In any case, the Arrow needs to be apprehended. And at least brought to trial, if not justice.”

              “I didn’t know he was gonna do that,” Felicity said softly.

              Barry leaned over to turn the monitor off. He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest, trying to sort through how they could deal with this and pacing. “We need to find out who’s actually doing this,” Barry said, running a hand through his hair.

              “I’m pretty sure I know,” Oliver said calmly, his hands in his pockets.

              “The League?” Barry asked.

              Oliver just nodded.

              “Shit.”

              “So this is how Ra’s al Ghul handles rejection?” Diggle said.

              “No, I think the point is that he doesn’t,” Oliver replied. “He wants to turn the city against me. Make the offer to take his place more appealing.” He sighed. He was really hoping that he could just say no and have it be over with. “Hit the streets. Whoever’s doing this is targeting criminals. We need to know who they’re after next.”

              Roy nodded, heading away. Oliver stopped Diggle before he could follow. “Not you. You go on your honeymoon.”

              “Oliver-” he started.

              “We got this, Dig,” Oliver said. “It’s still your day. I won’t let Ra’s al Ghul ruin it.”

              Diggle hesitated for another moment before nodding and going to find Lyla.

              Barry walked over to Oliver, touching his arm. “I’m going to head to the precinct. See if I can talk to Lance, get myself on the case.”

              Oliver nodded. “Good idea. Get the information that the police have on the case from the crime scene while you’re at it.”

              “Will do.” Barry furrowed his brow, leaning a little bit closer. “You okay?”

              Oliver nodded. “I’m fine. I just want to get this dealt with.”

              “Yeah,” Barry replied softly. He offered a small smile, squeezing Oliver’s hand once before speeding away.

\---

              “Captain Lance?” Barry said, hovering in the doorway of his office.

              “Allen? Isn’t it your day off?” Lance said, frowning.

              “Uh, yeah, but I saw the news. Figured this might be an all hands on deck situation,” Barry said quickly. He glanced behind him before walking in and closing the door behind him. “And the Arrow didn’t do this.”

              “Allen, look, I’d love to believe you,” Lance replied, leaning on his desk. “But the other forensics guy already looked over the scene. The evidence that it’s the Arrow is overwhelming, and we have a witness.”

              “Listen, Captain Lance, I _know_ that it wasn’t the Arrow,” Barry said, a little more urgently.

              “Could you actually give us a statement or testify to that?” Lance replied with a raised eyebrow.

              “You know that I can’t,” Barry replied.

              “Then you know there’s nothing I can do,” Lance said.

              “Can you put me on the case?” Barry said.

              Lance sighed, studying Barry’s face for a moment. “Fine. You can take over. But let me ask you something.”

              “Anything,” Barry replied.

              “How can you be sure it wasn’t him?” Lance asked.

              “I _know_ him,” Barry said simply.

              Lance just nodded and dismissed him.

              But Barry didn’t have much luck with the forensics. The arrows were indistinguishable from Oliver’s. The angle of the shots, the force behind them, the aim, it was all too close to be able to make any definitive conclusions or even any claims of a copy cat. The League had been very thorough, very careful.

              If Barry didn’t know better, he would’ve thought that the Arrow had done this, too.

              He ran back to the foundry, feeling a little defeated, hoping that the rest of the team might have had more luck than him.

              When he got there, Felicity and Roy were the only ones there.

              “Anything?” he asked.

              Roy looked up. “I figured out a location that the fake Arrow might be going to. Shipment of narcotics is coming in for a local gang, and they’re all gonna be there.”

              “Where’s Oliver?” Barry asked.

              “Where do you think?” Felicity replied. “He went alone. Said since it was the League, he’d handle it.”

              Barry had to keep from rolling his eyes. “Of course he did.”

\---

              By the time Oliver got there, several of the gang members were on the floor with arrows in their chests. The other man in the green hood swung down into the warehouse, and Oliver shot an arrow into his shoulder. But he just pulled it out like it didn’t hurt.

              Oliver went towards him, swinging his bow and kicking out his leg. The other man dodged and retaliated, but the fight didn’t last very long before Oliver had gotten the man to his knees. He pulled back the hood to see a man he didn’t recognize.

              When he looked up, there were two other men, both in green hoods, coming out of the shadows. The man on the ground took advantage of Oliver’s momentary distraction and got to his feet, kicking Oliver in the chest.

              Maseo walked into the light. “You can’t kill them all, Oliver. When one falls, two more rise.”

              “Maseo, you can’t believe in this,” Oliver said. “Murdering all these people just to prove a point?”

              “No,” Maseo replied. “To persuade you.”

              “You know me better than that,” Oliver said, pushing his shoulders back. He had to believe he was stronger than this.

              “Don’t let your recalcitrance take any more lives,” Maseo told him. And then Maseo and all three of the imposter Arrows disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

              Oliver gripped onto his bow. How was he supposed to solve this one? Ra’s would keep sending men to pretend to be him. His reputation would keep being destroyed. And people would keep dying. He didn’t see a way out. They had him backed into a corner.

\---

              Oliver and Barry were in the foundry, waiting for the rest of the team. Oliver examined the arrows Barry had brought from the precinct as Barry paced behind him, clearly agitated.

              “Will you stop that?” Oliver said evenly. “It’s very distracting.”

              “Sorry,” Barry said, stopping by the table. “You having any more luck than I did?”

              Oliver shook his head. “They’re identical.”

              “How is that even possible?” Barry asked.

              “It’s the League,” Oliver said simply. He sighed, putting the arrows down and rubbing the back of his neck. “What am I supposed to do?”

              Barry’s shoulders drooped a little, and he leaned against the table. “I don’t know, Ollie.”

              “They’re going to keep killing people until I accept,” Oliver said.

              “They can’t make you do anything,” Barry replied softly.

              “That’s not really true,” Oliver said. “And you know it.”

              Barry wished he had any solution to offer. But he had no idea what they could do. Even if they could convince the cops that the Arrow wasn’t the killer, the League would continue sending people, and people would keep dying. He slipped his hand into Oliver’s. “This is an impossible situation, Ollie. And I’ll stand by you no matter what you decide to do.”

              Oliver took a deep breath. Well, at least there was that. “Thank you,” he said.

              “Of course,” Barry replied.

              They had another few moments of silence before Roy and Felicity came down the stairs.

              “He _knows_ ,” Felicity said, frantic. “God, he knows.”

              “Wait, who knows what?” Barry replied, exchanging a look with Oliver before following Felicity to her computers.

              Felicity looked pained. “Last year, Ray’s fiancé was killed by Mirakuru men, and _now,_ he wants to protect the city so he built a suit out of military-grade technology. He wants to put the Arrow in jail, so he used my technology to track you down, and he scanned you with his X-rays and now he knows you’re the Arrow and he’s gonna tell the cops.”

              Barry’s eyes widened and he looked over at Oliver and then back to Felicity. “And where is Ray now?”

              “Either at Palmer Tech or already at the police station,” Felicity replied, her voice faltering a little.

              Oliver shot Barry a look of warning, but it was too late. Barry sped out of the foundry.

              “And now he’s gonna know who the Flash is too,” Felicity muttered, her hands shaking. “That’s just great.”

              “Calm down,” Oliver said, keeping his tone as neutral as he could manage. “Let me get this straight. Palmer knows I’m the Arrow, and he has his own mission to protect the city?”

              Felicity nodded, looking ill.

              “Why didn’t you tell us?” Oliver asked. His nerves were threatening to get the best of him, but he tried to contain it.

              “Look, it’s not _important_ right now, he’s gonna tell the cops about you,” Felicity replied, on the brink of tears.

              “Ray built a super suit?” Roy said. “That’s kind of awesome.”

              Oliver shot him a disapproving look.

              “And reckless,” he added.

              “And now Barry has gone to talk to him,” Oliver sighed, running a hand over his hair. As if all the problems with the League weren’t enough.

              “Only if he managed to get there before Ray left for the precinct,” Felicity replied. “What are we gonna do?”

              Oliver didn’t have an answer.

\---

              Barry didn’t have a plan. At all. But Ray seemed like a reasonable enough guy, from the two or so conversations he’d had with him. Barry figured there must be something he could do. Talking to the Arrow probably wouldn’t sway Ray’s opinion, but talking to the Flash might.

              He decided at the last minute to not bother trying to conceal his identity. Ray might take him more seriously if he was honest and open. It was worth a shot.

              He sped into Ray’s office in his street clothes, relieved to see that Ray hadn’t left yet. “Ray Palmer,” he greeted. “Can we talk?”

              Ray looked a little shocked, maybe even flustered. He quickly grabbed the few papers that had been blown onto the floor before taking a few steps towards Barry. “I guess I should’ve figured out you were the Flash.”

              “I’m sure it wouldn’t have taken you long,” Barry replied. He furrowed his brow, not quite sure where to start. “Look, Ray, I know that it’s unfair to ask…”

              “You want me to not go to the cops,” Ray replied flatly. “Felicity told you.”

              “I’m asking you to reconsider telling the cops,” Barry said. “Oliver isn’t the one doing this. We’re trying to stop the impersonators. Putting the Arrow on trial will only make it take longer to get the real culprits.”

              “I promised the city that I would bring the Arrow to trial,” Ray replied simply. He paused a moment, looking closely at Barry’s face. “I’ve read articles about how the Flash does things. Never kills, never tortures. And you work in the police department, too. Tell me this, Barry, how can you turn a blind eye? The Arrow has played judge, jury, and executioner before. It doesn’t exactly seem like your kind of justice.”

              “The good that the Arrow has done outweighs the bad several times over,” Barry replied easily. “Oliver is a good person, who has been through more than anyone should have to. And the fact that he came out the other side wanting to make the world better… As far as I’m concerned, he’s a hero. People have to do the best they can with the circumstances they were given, and Oliver has done more than that.”

              Ray paused for a moment, thoughtful. “Felicity made a similar case.”

              “She’s a smart woman,” Barry replied.

              “Are you sure your judgement isn’t clouded here?” Ray said. “Your emotional attachment to Oliver isn’t getting in the way?”

              Barry took a deep breath, looking right into Ray’s eyes. “Look, I know it’s a lot to ask. You don't know Oliver like I do. I get that. And I’m not asking you to decide right now. Just… Please reconsider. Hold off on going to the police. Oliver doesn’t deserve to go to jail.”

              Barry practically held his breath as he waited. Ray looked so serious, a far cry from the bumbling, smiling guy that Felicity had brought to the wedding. “I’ll think about it.”

              “Thanks, Ray,” Barry said with a grateful smile. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted, but it was still much better. He started to turn away to head back to the foundry.

              “Wait,” Ray said, his tone changing. Barry turned back to see that some of the cheerful demeanor had returned. “I can’t let you leave without asking. How can you do what you do? Is it some kind of tech? How fast can you really go?”

              Barry grinned. “Remember the particle accelerator in Central City?”

              He stayed around Ray’s office for a while, discussing the various scientific aspects of his powers and their limits. It reminded him a little of how it was back at S.T.A.R. Labs with Cisco and Caitlin, a little lighter. It was nice to talk about his powers like this, and it was also nice to know that as long as he was there, Ray wasn’t on his way to the precinct.

\---

              Oliver paced in the living room, not sure when Barry would get home or what he was expecting. It was bad enough that the League was after him so relentlessly and that he still had no idea how to deal with that. It was just an added stress that his identity might be news soon.

              He stopped pacing the second the door opened. “Barry,” he said.

              Barry walked over, pulling Oliver to the couch. “I got him to reconsider.”

              “You did?”

              He nodded. “Still not sure what he’s going to end up doing, but he’s not heading to the police station right now, anyway.”

              “You really shouldn’t have just run off like that,” Oliver said.

              “You could just say thank you,” Barry said, with a small smirk, nudging Oliver’s arm.

              Oliver smiled. “Thank you,” he said. “So who was Ray talking to anyway? Barry or the Flash?”

              “Both,” Barry replied.

              Oliver raised his eyebrows. “You _told_ him? Why would you do that?”

              “Sometimes it pays off to have a little faith in people,” Barry replied.

              “That was way too dangerous, Bar,” Oliver said.

              “It was a calculated risk,” Barry replied.

              Oliver narrowed his eyes, about to start in on a lecture about recklessness, when his phone went off. He pulled it out to see a text from Felicity.

“Felicity says that Ray had a change of heart about the Arrow,” Oliver said.

              “Well, look at that,” Barry replied with a grin. “The risk paid off.”

              Oliver shot him a glare. “It was still reckless.”

              Barry laughed, leaning in to kiss Oliver. “You’re welcome.”

              Oliver smiled, kissing him back. Well, only one of their pressing issues was solved, but Oliver figured that he could certainly be worse off than this. At least he didn’t have to face any of this alone.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking place Arrow 3.18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how when I was first starting this story, I got two chapters out a day for a little while? Can we remember me like that, instead of how I am now?

              Oliver woke up to an empty bed and loud swearing coming from the kitchen. He sat up in bed, a little confused, since he was usually the first one awake.

              He pulled on a shirt and walked into the kitchen to see a bowl shattered on the floor and Barry holding his index finger close to his chest.

              Oliver almost laughed, but he managed to stop himself. “What happened in here?” he said, unable to keep the bemused tone out of his voice.

              Barry shot him a quick glare. “I was going to make breakfast, but…”

              Oliver glanced around the kitchen, seeing the mess on the counters. He raised an eyebrow. “How did you break a bowl and cut your finger? Don’t you have super speed?”

              Barry sighed. “I didn’t- Okay, I didn’t cut my finger, I burned it. I just… needed to check that the pan was hot enough.” He let go of his finger to run it under cold water in the sink. “I was distracted when I knocked over the bowl.”

              “You… needed to check if the pan was hot enough,” Oliver said slowly. “So you just… Touched it.”

              Barry paused for a moment, looking sheepish. “I mean… That’s how you tell if things are hot. By touching them.”

              “Or you could splash a bit of water onto it,” Oliver replied, leaning against the counter.

              Barry laughed. “That’s also an option,” he said. He sighed, smiling at Oliver and running his uninjured hand through his hair. “The burn will be gone in a few minutes anyway. I just wanted to make breakfast before leaving for work.”

              “That’s very nice of you,” Oliver replied. “I appreciate it.”

              Barry smiled, turning the water off and leaning down to pick up the broken glass.

              “Let me take care of that,” Oliver said. “Don’t you have to get to work?”

              Barry shrugged. “I could be late.”

              Oliver laughed and kissed him on the cheek. “I know what you’re doing. It’s okay, Barry. I’ll be okay.”

              Barry took a deep breath, gazing at Oliver warmly. “I wish there was more I could do.”

              “I know,” Oliver said, squeezing Barry’s arm.

\---

              Of course, things only got worse. That night at the foundry, they were watching the news. They couldn’t just have a moment to relax. Mere hours after Barry had convinced Ray of Oliver’s innocence, the mayor had gotten shot with an arrow. And so had Ray. The League was only getting more persistent, and Oliver was feeling hopeless. Ra’s wasn’t going to accept his rejection. Of course. 

              “ _We have confirmation that Mayor Castle was pronounced dead at the scene,”_ the news anchor reported. “ _Palmer Technology CEO Ray Palmer was taken to Starling General Hospital where he is listed in critical condition.”_

              Oliver just watched the screen, his posture stiff and his expression stoic. Barry studied his face, his heart aching for all that Oliver must be feeling and pushing away.

              “I tried to call Felicity,” Diggle said, his voice grim. “She’s not answering her phone.”

              Captain Lance appeared on the television, giving his statement. _“I just requested a first-degree murder warrant for the Arrow and re-instated the anti-vigilante task force, with shoot to kill orders if necessary.”_

              “ _What about the Flash and Black Canary_?” a reporter in the crowd asked.

              Lance looked almost pained at that. “ _Because of their histories working with the Arrow, we have to assume they could be accomplices as well. Excuse me.”_

              Barry shut off the television, sighing and falling into one of the chairs. “I could talk to him.”

              “And say what?” Oliver replied, sounding close to defeated. “You’d have to tell them that you’re the Flash. And it’s not like the anti-vigilante task force is only for the Arrow.”

              “We have to do something,” Barry said.

              “The murders are being orchestrated by on of Ra’s lieutenants,” Oliver replied. “Maseo.”

              “You sound like you know him,” Diggle said.

              “I did,” Oliver said, his voice getting softer. “Or I thought I did. Lifetimes ago.”

              “Where can we find him?” Diggle asked.

              “Let’s see if we can figure it out,” Oliver replied. He started to move, Diggle following.

              Barry hesitated a moment. “You two go. I’m going to the precinct. See if there’s anything I can say to Lance that might help.”

              Oliver furrowed his brow. “Don’t get your hopes up,” he said, gently squeezing Barry’s shoulder.

\---

              Laurel rushed into her father’s office, heart pounding and mind whirling. She closed the door behind her, keeping her voice low so no one could hear. “What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed. “Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?”

              Quentin sighed, rubbing his temples. “Look, sweetheart, I can’t ignore all the evidence here. I _saw_ him. The Arrow has been helpful before, but he’s been a murderer, too. Maybe we never should have disbanded the task force to begin with.”

              “The Arrow saved the city, and he’s being framed,” Laurel replied. “And why would you bring the Flash and the Black Canary into this, too?”

              Quentin shot his daughter a disapproving look. “I _didn’t._ A reporter asked. And honey, you knew what you were getting into. Being a vigilante is dangerous, and the Arrow is a criminal. And what do we even know about the Flash anyway? No one knows how he can do what he can do.”

              “Well, I know both the Arrow and the Flash, and I know that they’re not behind this,” Laurel said. “Don’t you trust me?”

              “Laurel, of course I trust you. But I can’t let my personal feelings interfere here. This is serious.”

              “You’re sure you’re not letting your personal feelings about me being the Black Canary get in the way here?”

              “That’s not fair.” Quentin sighed, pressing his hands into the desk. “Just tell me. Who is he?”

              Laurel straightened her spine, staring her father dead in the eyes. “What, so you can arrest him for a crime he didn’t commit?”

              “This has to end,” he replied, his voice low. He knew that the vigilantism in the city could never have led to anything good. He never should have trusted the Arrow to begin with. “The mayor is dead.”

              “I know. And you’re wasting your time going after the wrong person,” Laurel replied.

              A light knock on the door stopped Quentin before he could reply. He shot Laurel a look before going to open the door, seeing Barry Allen outside.

              “Captain Lance,” Barry greeted. “I was hoping I could have a word.” He glanced inside, seeing Laurel’s frustrated expression and feeling his optimism fade.

              “Allen, unless you’re coming to tell me who the Arrow is, I don’t really want to hear it,” Quentin replied gruffly.

              “He didn’t do this,” Barry said, his voice low.

              “You got any proof?” He looked at Barry challengingly, who broke eye contact to look at the floor. “That’s what I thought.”

              Laurel sighed, frustrated. “Barry, there’s no use.”

              “My hands are _tied,”_ Lance insisted.

              Laurel didn’t reply. “Come on, Barry, we’ll have to figure something else out. Let’s go,” she said, walking out of the room with her head held high as Barry followed close behind.

              When they got around the corner, Barry grabbed Laurel’s arm, pulling her off to the side. “What about Nyssa?”

              Laurel frowned, narrowing her eyes. “What about her?”

              “I mean, do you think we could talk to her?” Barry said, running an anxious hand through his hair. “Maybe she could help.”

              Laurel paused for a beat, unsure. “She’s still in town.”

              “Could you see if I could meet with her?”

              She pursed her lips. “I’ll see what I can do.”

\---

              Barry barely restrained himself from pacing as he waited in the alley where Laurel had told him to wait. He almost jumped when Nyssa got there.

              “What is it that you want?” Nyssa said, her tone impatient.

              “Did you know that the League is behind the murders that the Arrow is suspected of?” Barry asked.

              Nyssa narrowed her eyes. “It does not surprise me. My father is hoping to convince Oliver to take his rightful place as heir.”

              “Shouldn’t that place be yours?” Barry wasn’t sure how exactly he could convince Nyssa to help them. She struck him as fair and ultimately, as kind, but that was merely based on his knowledge of her relationship with Sara, a girl he’d never even met. But Nyssa seemed reasonable enough and it never hurt to try.

              “My father can select any heir he wishes,” Nyssa replied evenly.

              Barry studied her face for a moment. “Oliver doesn’t want to be his heir. And you deserve that place.”

              Nyssa shot Barry a glare. “I am not going to discuss this with you.” She started to turn away.

              “Wait,” Barry called quickly. “Nyssa. Innocent people are dying.”

              She turned back, her eyes betraying nothing. “That is no concern of mine.”

              “Isn’t it?” Barry took a few steps towards her. “Because your father is trying to give away your birthright, people are getting killed. That has to mean _something_ to you.”

              Nyssa didn’t reply. She just stared at him with hard eyes.

              “You can’t pretend to be heartless,” Barry said.

              “I know you are asking for my help,” Nyssa replied. “I am not going to betray my father.”

              Barry noticed she didn’t address whether she was affected by the deaths. He hoped that meant he was right about her. “You don’t owe him your loyalty. He clearly doesn’t think you deserve his.” Barry paused, tilting his head a little. “You told me that the reason he didn’t want you as his heir was because he disapproved of your love for Sara. If that’s true, then he doesn’t deserve anything from you.”

              The hard look of Nyssa’s face faltered at that. As she hesitantly agreed to help, Barry was just glad he hadn’t been wrong about her.

\---

              Oliver wasn’t exactly surprised that Barry had managed to get Nyssa to agree to help them. He had seen Barry talk criminals down before. He was pretty sure Barry could talk a lot of people into a lot of unexpected things.

              He leaned against a table where Barry was sitting at a computer, filling in for Felicity as she stayed with Ray at the hospital. Diggle, Roy, and Laurel were hanging around the foundry too, all waiting for Nyssa to return to see if she had anything.

              Oliver nudged Barry softly. “What if it doesn’t work?”

              “Then we’ll try something else,” Barry replied quietly.

              “We have to consider this,” Oliver said. “What if I have to accept? What if it’s the only way to stop them?”

              Barry laced his fingers into Oliver’s and squeezed gently. He didn’t answer.

              Nyssa walked in briskly. “I have Maseo’s location. A building called Magnuson Plaza.”

              “Yeah, the company that owns that building went belly-up a few months back,” Diggle said, walking towards the desks where Barry had started typing.

              “Apparently, the League has been using it as a safehouse and staging ground for its attacks,” Nyssa said.

              “How’d you find this out?” Roy asked hesitantly.

              Nyssa turned her head sharply. “I am daughter of the demon.”

              Barry smiled a bit at that, shooting Roy a bemused look. He focused on pulling up the location and information of the building, seeing what he could find. He wasn’t Felicity or anything, but he was good enough with computers.

              “Your primary concern should be the League,” Nyssa said, looking at Oliver. “You can capture Maseo, but my father has an army at his command.”

              Oliver clenched his jaw. He _knew_ that. He just didn’t quite know what he could do about it. “One step at a time.”

              “Oliver,” Diggle prompted, gesturing towards the schematics that Barry had pulled up.

              “We have to spread out if we’re gonna cover that,” Oliver said.

              Barry shot him a look, eyebrows raised. “Are you kidding? I can cover that.”

              “We don’t know what kind of reinforcements the League might have there,” Oliver replied, close to rolling his eyes. “You might not be able to get through it all.”

              “I can try,” Barry said, standing up. “And everyone else can watch the perimeter and stand by. I’ll let you know if there’s anything I can’t handle.”

              “I’m sure there’s nothing you can’t handle,” Oliver replied, a hint of mocking in his tone.

              Barry scoffed and grinned. “Just watch me, Ollie.”

              _I can get behind that idea,_ Oliver thought to himself, but didn’t say out loud because, of course, there were other people around to consider. Although the hints of flirting did help to distract and ease some of the stress.

              Oliver pushed his shoulders back, switching back into strategizing. “Okay, so Roy, Laurel, and I will take different corners. Dig, I want you on overwatch. Barry, you’ll circle around, report back, and the rest of us will stay on comms and let you know where to go. Everyone clear?”

              Roy glanced at Nyssa. “What about her?”

              Nyssa glared. “Don’t confuse my willingness to provide information with an inclination to take up arms against the League.”

              Oliver turned to Nyssa. “We appreciate what you’ve done. We’ll take it from here.”

              Nyssa gave a curt nod before heading out of the foundry.

              Oliver looked back towards the team. “Let’s do this.”

\---

              Oliver was standing by Barry came back. “There’s nothing,” he said, his confusion showing plainly on his face.

              “Nothing?” Oliver repeated.

              Barry shook his head. “It’s all clear. _Nothing._ ”

              Oliver frowned, quickly calling Laurel and Roy back through the comms. Barry did another round of the building as they came back to make sure.

              Laurel and Roy looked just as confused and uneasy as Barry felt.

              “Dig says everything is clear on the North side, too,” Oliver told them, crossing his arms over his chest.

              “Think Nyssa played us?” Roy asked unsteadily.

              Oliver and Barry exchanged an uneasy glance.

              _“Hang on, I got movement,”_ Diggle said through the comms. _“Upper level, southwest corner.”_             

              Oliver straightened up, motioning for the team to follow him. For once, Barry didn’t run ahead.

              They got there to see Maseo with a small group of League members. Oliver went straight for Maseo, putting aside the remaining affection he felt for the man. He couldn’t let his nostalgia get in the way and cloud his judgement. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Laurel, Roy, and Barry fighting the rest of the group.

              Barry had just disarmed the League member he was up against when he looked up. Maseo had fallen to the ground, with Oliver aiming an arrow at his face. For a moment, it felt like everything had frozen.

              Then there was the sound of someone clapping, and Ra’s al Ghul himself came into view.

              “Clearly, I chose well, selecting you as my heir,” he said. Oliver raised his bow. Ra’s looked almost amused. “Killing me will only win you the mantle you reject.”

              “It’ll stop you,” Oliver said through gritted teeth.

              “I have legions who live only to see my will done,” Ra’s replied. “No, boy. You have but two choices. You either ascend to the calling of Ra’s al Ghul or you will spend the rest of your life in a cage.”

              Barry’s chest tightened and he looked over at Oliver’s neutral expression. He didn’t like the sound of that. He desperately wanted to find another way out of this, but he had no idea what to do.

              “You’re not gonna take me prisoner,” Oliver snapped back.

              Ra’s al Ghul almost smiled. “No. I’m not.”

              As if on cue, a spotlight landed on Oliver from a police helicopter. _“This is the Starling City Police. Put your weapons down and your hands up. You’re all under arrest.”_

              They heard policemen approaching, coming up the stairs with large guns and heavy vests.

              Barry gritted his teeth. He worked for the police department; he didn’t exactly like the idea of running from the cops. He knew full well that the police could be wrong and that the justice system didn’t always work, but this was certainly not his favorite part about being on Team Arrow.

              Before the police could get any closer, he grabbed Oliver and sped all the way back to the foundry. He turned back immediately to get Laurel and Roy, too, checking to make sure Diggle wasn’t far behind. Barry was sure that the Flash’s favorable reputation was going to suffer now. He’d officially committed an obvious crime, right in front of them.

              Roy breathed a sigh of relief. “It helps to have a speedster on the team.”

              Oliver touched a hand to Barry’s arm gently. “Thank you.”

               Barry met Oliver’s eyes and just nodded.

              Laurel leaned against a table, pulling her mask off and crossing her arms. “Well, that was less than ideal.”

              “This isn’t the first time the police have been after me,” Oliver said evenly.

              “This isn’t quite the same,” Laurel replied, shooting him a look.

              Roy looked at Oliver. “What are you going to do?”

              Barry watched Oliver’s jaw clench, his arms stiffen. He felt fear settling in his stomach. What if Oliver did take the offer? What if there was no other option? He swallowed hard, trying to push away his anxiety.

\---

              Oliver and Barry sat on the couch in their apartment in silence, staring at the floor. Barry kept glancing up at Oliver, wondering when he was going to break the silence. It was keeping Barry on edge. He didn’t like seeing Oliver like this, looking burdened with guilt and completely helpless. He didn’t know what he could do to help.

              Oliver inhaled sharply, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “I might have to accept the offer. I might have to go with the League.”

              Barry clenched his jaw and furrowed his brow, but he didn’t say anything.

              “You’re not going to try and talk me out of it?” Oliver asked softly.

              “Do you want me to?” Barry replied gently.

              Oliver sighed. “I don’t know.”

              “Like I told you before, no matter what your decision, I’m with you,” Barry said. He wrapped a hand around Oliver’s forearm.

              Oliver smiled at him warmly. “What would I do without you?”

              Barry grinned, leaning down to kiss Oliver’s shoulder. “You’d figure something out, I’m sure.” He got up, pulling Oliver’s wrist. “Come on, you need to get some sleep.”

              Oliver got up reluctantly. “How am I supposed to sleep with all this going on?”

              “The Arrow can’t help anyone if he’s sleep deprived,” Barry replied. “Come on. Come to bed.”

              Oliver smiled, letting himself be pulled to Barry’s bedroom.

\---

              Barry had left for work early, slipping out of the apartment quietly before Oliver woke up. He was just happy Oliver had managed to sleep at all, and he didn’t want to ruin it.

              At the police station, the Flash was somewhat of a topic of conversation. Barry bit his tongue as he heard a few officers debating whether the Flash was as guilty as the Arrow. He walked briskly to his office, not wanting to get involved. He didn’t know what he’d be able to say anyway.

              Only minutes after he’d sat down to work, aware of the irony of having the Flash’s case file on his desk, Laurel came rushing in, looking panicked.

              “My dad _knows,_ ” she said quickly.

              Barry froze, staring at her for a moment. “He knows what, exactly?”

              “He knows that Oliver is the Arrow,” she replied, furrowing her brow. “Ra’s told him. It probably won’t take him long to realize that you’re the Flash.” She paused. “You might want to take the day off today.”

              Barry shook his head. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine. Did you call Oliver?”

              “No,” Laurel replied. “I just found out. I ran up here immediately.”

              Barry clenched his jaw. He hated being the bearer of bad news. “Oliver needs to know.”

              Laurel pursed her lips. “My dad might already be on his way to tell him.”

              “With or without other police officers?” Barry replied, narrowing his eyes.

              Laurel sighed, shaking her head. “I can’t be sure. He never really wanted to go after the Arrow, and he doesn’t hate Oliver anymore, but… The grief from losing Sara has been getting to him.”

              “Maybe we should both take the day,” Barry replied. “Head back to the foundry. Regroup. Figure out where to go from here.”

              Before Laurel could respond, Quentin Lance appeared in the doorway. He crossed his arms, shooting Laurel a disapproving look. “Why am I not surprised to find you in here?”

              Laurel met his gaze defiantly. Barry’s gaze fell guiltily to the floor.

              “Listen, I-” Quentin started, bringing a hand up to his temples. “If it’s not… If it’s not the _Arrow_ doing these things, then who is it?”

              “The League of Assassins,” Laurel replied.

              “Ra’s al Ghul wants Oli- wants _the Arrow_ to be his successor. This is the blackmail,” Barry said, still watching the floor.

              Quentin sighed loudly. “Allen, are you the Flash?”

              Barry’s chest tightened and he sat up straighter. “Captain Lance, you know that I can’t answer that.”

              “Well, there’s the answer,” Quentin replied, crossing his arms. “I should arrest you.”

              “I won’t stop you.” Barry finally lifted his gaze to meet Captain Lance’s. Lance didn’t look angry. He looked more tired and defeated than anything else.

              “I’m backed into a corner here,” Lance replied. “I wish I could just arrest Oliver and have it be done with. But we all know that wouldn’t do the city any good.”

              Laurel and Barry exchanged a slightly confused glance. “Dad,” Laurel started. “What are you going to tell everyone else?”

              Lance sighed. “Nothing. For now. I’ll keep the Arrow’s identity to myself. But I can’t call off the arrest warrants.” He shot Barry a look, his eyes hard. “There’s only so much I can do when you break the law in front of the police.”

              Barry gave a slight nod. “Just… Come by Thea’s club tonight. We’ll all talk. Try to figure something out. Okay?”

              Quentin nodded before backing out of the room again, his shoulders slumped.

              Laurel looked at Barry. “Got any ideas?”

              Barry raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

              She didn’t reply.

\---

              Oliver kept his feet planted firmly on the ground. He wanted to pace or work out or do some busy work. Anything to take his mind off the inevitable. Quentin Lance knew who he was, and he was going to be here soon.

              And they were going to have to talk about where to go from here.

              He was pretty sure the only way to not get arrested, the only way to stop these murders, the only way to fix all of this, was to accept the offer and go back to Nanda Parbat. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to run the League of Assassins. He didn’t want to leave Starling City, his sister, Barry, the team.

              More than anything, he just wanted to not get roped into these kinds of situations anymore. He didn’t want to lead the kind of life where his problems involve murder and running from the police and fighting the League of Assassins.

              He didn’t want this anymore. This life. This crusade. His heart wasn’t in it. He could envision a life where he had a normal job, with normal hours, a life where he could get a dog, get married, have children. If he had never gotten on the Gambit, maybe that life would already be his. There was no way to know.

              Barry’s hands slipped into his, pulling him from his thoughts. “What are you thinking?” Barry asked softly.

              Oliver shook his head. “Nothing important. Nothing that could help.”

              Barry squeezed his hand. “It’ll be okay.”

              Oliver glanced over and smiled. “I love you, Barry.”

              Barry smiled warmly back. “I love you too, Ollie.”

              “Well, this is sweet,” a voice said from behind them. They both spun around, pulling away from each other, to see Malcolm Merlyn standing there with his hands behind his back.

              “Merlyn,” Barry said, his voice getting hard. “What are you doing here?”

              “I came to talk,” he replied taking a few steps forwards. He set his eyes on Oliver. “You know, Ra’s won’t stop until you’re wearing the Demon’s Head ring on your hand.”

              Oliver bit his tongue, glancing at Barry. Barry’s jaw clenched. “We’re hoping it won’t come to that,” he said, keeping his tone even.

              Merlyn chuckled. “Well, Flash, what other options are there? People are _dying._ ”

              “And suddenly, you care?” Barry replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

              “Ra’s hasn’t started killing people close to you,” Merlyn said, directing the statement at Oliver. “ _Yet._ Who do you think he’ll start with? Barry or Thea?”

              “What’s your point, Malcolm?” Oliver replied. All he felt was tired. He knew that Malcolm was right. The longer he held out against Ra’s, the more in danger his friends and family were in.

              “Have you considered that leading the League of Assassins might be a preferable outcome to what alternatives Ra’s might devise?” Malcolm said harshly, narrowing his eyes. “I don’t want your stubbornness to get my daughter killed, Oliver.”

              The thought of Thea’s death made Oliver’s throat tighten. He didn’t reply.

              Merlyn pursed his lips. “Just think about what could happen in the meantime. While you’re putting off the inevitable.” He turned and walked back out briskly.

              Oliver let out a breath. There was only so much left that he could do.

              Barry put a warm hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay, Oliver?”

              Oliver squeezed Barry’s hand instead of replying. The rest of the team and Quentin were going to get here any minute. What was he supposed to tell them? That he’d been backed into a corner? That he was going to cave in to what Ra’s wanted? There was no good way out of this. Everything looked bleak.

              But he had a choice to make.

              Barry tried to push away his own fears. If he was freaking out, he could only imagine how Oliver was feeling. He couldn’t let what he wanted or how he felt get in the way. Oliver needed him to be strong. To be as calm as he could manage.

              All he really wanted to do was beg Oliver to stay, or to run away with him. But he knew that was selfish. He knew it was unreasonable.

              They stayed there in silence for a few more minutes before the team and Quentin came down the stairs.

              “So this is where the Arrow hides out,” Quentin said, his voice icy.

              “Dad,” Laurel said, in a chastising tone.

              The team gathered around, and Oliver and Barry exchanged a look. “So,” Quentin prompted. “What are we going to do here? Am I going to regret not arresting you?”

              Oliver looked at Barry, who gave a slight reassuring nod. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” Oliver said, keeping his voice calm and professional. “Ra’s hasn’t left me with a lot of choice here. We all know that the Arrow isn’t the one committing these murders, but there’s no evidence on our side. Ra’s has endless people to send, no matter who we stop. All Ra’s wants is me. And I can’t let innocent people die for that.”

             Barry knew it was coming, but he still felt sick. Oliver was really going to do this. 

              An uneasy silence fell, as the team glanced at one another. “What exactly are you saying?” Felicity asked hesitantly.

              “You’re going to say yes?” Quentin asked, crossing his arms.

              Oliver glanced over at Barry again. “I think I have to.”


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, sorry for the late and short update. Only a few chapters left until the end of season three of Arrow. I do have a potential plan for after that, so that might not be the end of the story anyway.

              The rest of the team hadn’t responded well to Oliver’s announcement. There were various protests, bargains, plans that would never work, all thrown out at once. It took a while to calm everyone down.

              _This is my decision,_ he’d told them. _And I can’t let any more people die because of me._

              The team didn’t really seem like they were going to stop arguing, but they’d let up for the night anyway. The only people who didn’t argue with Oliver were Quentin and Barry.

              Oliver leaned back on the couch next to Barry and closed his eyes. They had been sitting in silence for a while, and the magnitude of Oliver’s decision was finally hitting him. “You’re not going to try to talk me into staying?” Oliver asked.

              Barry sighed. “Ollie, obviously, I don’t want you to go. But honestly, there’s no good decision here. And I’d do the same thing in your place.” He looked at Oliver and smiled sadly. “I don’t want to make this any harder on you than it has to be.”

              Oliver studied Barry’s face for a few moments. “I’m really glad I have you.”

              Barry kissed Oliver on the cheek and then leaned back and took a deep breath. “So this isn’t _it,_ though, right? We’re going to figure out some kind of plan to take the League down from the inside? Get you back?”

              Oliver clenched his jaw. “I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

              “We’ll have to,” Barry replied quietly. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He hadn’t quite let the idea of Oliver leaving sink in. It just wasn’t something he could handle right now. He couldn’t afford to fall apart. He turned to Oliver, with a grin. “What if we just ran away to Coast City instead?”

              Oliver frowned. “Barry…” he said reluctantly.

              “Come on, just humor me,” Barry replied, nudging his arm.

              Oliver paused, a smile growing on his face. “Run away to Coast City? Why Coast City?”

              Barry shrugged. “Just go with it. What would we do?”

              “Hypothetically, how are we hiding from the League?”

              Barry shot him a look. “Hypothetically, we get lucky for once in our lives.”

              Oliver smiled, moving so that he was lying down on the couch with his head on Barry’s lap. “Then I guess we find an apartment. We’ll only need a one-bedroom, right?”

              “I mean, it’s the financially responsible thing to do,” Barry said with a grin, running his hand over Oliver’s hair.

              “We find normal jobs. You’ll keep being a CSI, I’ll get a job in a coffee shop.”

              Barry scoffed. “I can’t imagine you serving people coffee.”

              Oliver smiled. “I’m sure it wouldn’t be as hard as being a vigilante.”

              “You’ve obviously never worked in the food industry,” Barry said, shaking his head.

              “I’ll get the hang of it,” Oliver replied.

              “Should we get a dog?” Barry said, his tone getting dreamier as he traced his fingers down Oliver’s cheek to his neck.

              “I’d like that,” Oliver said softly. “I’ve never had a dog.”

              “What kind of dog do you want?” Barry asked.

              Oliver paused for a moment. “A Dalmatian.”

              “Why a Dalmatian?” Barry asked. “Wait, wait, don’t tell me. It was the Disney movie, wasn’t it?”

              “No, I wanted to be a firefighter when I was a kid,” Oliver replied.

              “That’s adorable,” Barry said, grinning down at him.

              Oliver picked up a pillow from the couch and hit Barry on the arm with it. “What are we naming the dog?”

              Barry shook his head. “We can’t name the dog without seeing it.”

              “Right, of course,” Oliver said with a chuckle.

              There were a few moments of silence, Oliver imagining that life and Barry thinking about how it would never happen. 

              “You know, in the multiverse theory, there’s a universe out there somewhere where we have that life,” Barry said with a sigh.

              Oliver looked at the ground. “Must be a nice place.”

              Barry didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. He just leaned down to kiss Oliver on the forehead.

\---

              Oliver didn’t fully intend to come back. He’d told Barry that they’d think of something, but truth be told, he was just tired of people dying because of him. After everyone he’d killed in those five years and in that year he got back, maybe this was what his life had to come to. Maybe this was, ultimately, what he deserved.

              He was just kidding himself, thinking that he and Barry could have some semblance of a normal life. He’d tried. He’d tried so hard to believe that things were going to be okay. But he was tired.

              So the team could talk all they wanted about the plans for after Oliver went to the League. They could think of ways to break him out, dream up ways to kill Ra’s, try and team up with Nyssa again. But Oliver wasn’t expecting to come back. He was expected to swallow his morals and become whatever Ra’s wanted him to. It was time he paid for his sins, time he let his past catch up to him. Time he stopped letting people get hurt or killed because of him.

              Barry didn’t need to know any of this. What good would it do? Oliver was sure there was no way Barry would just let him go like that, with no intention of coming back. Barry was going to play the hero and try to save him.

              Oliver didn’t have the heart to tell him it was going to be pointless.

              Once the decision had been made, Oliver didn’t want to waste any time. He didn’t want anyone else to get hurt, just because he didn’t give himself up fast enough.

              He’d made up his mind. That was it.

              The team had gathered in the Arrow Cave to say their goodbyes. Although only Oliver was certain that it was going to be permanent.

              “You sure about this, man?” Diggle said, his arms crossed and his voice low.

              Oliver could only nod.

              Diggle nodded back, sticking his hand out. “We’ll find a way to get you back.”

              Oliver shook his hand, almost wishing he could tell them that he wasn’t ever coming back. He didn’t want his last memories here to be of hearing empty optimism.

              Felicity threw her arms around him next, sniffling. “Good luck, Oliver. Be careful. Please.” She pulled away quickly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

              Roy stepped forward, looking solemn. “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me.”

              Oliver tried his best to smile. “Take care of yourself.”

              He turned to Laurel, who hugged him tightly. She stepped away slowly, still keeping a hand on his arm and looking into his eyes. “We’ll take care of the city while you’re gone.”

              “It’s in good hands,” he replied.

              And that was all he got. It was time to leave. Ra’s was not a patient man.

              Oliver turned to Barry. “You ready?”

              Barry pushed his shoulders back and smiled. “As I’ll ever be. Let’s go.”

\---

              They stood in silence for a few moments, staring into the distance at the looming lair of the League of Assassins.

              “You don’t have to do this,” Barry said softly.

              “My life against all of Starling City,” Oliver replied. “It’s not even a contest. You know that.”

              Barry reached for Oliver’s hand, keeping his gaze straight ahead. He laced their fingers together, rubbing his thumb against Oliver’s wrist. “I’ll be back. I’ll find a way to get you out of this. I promise.”

              “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Barry. Don’t do that to yourself.” Oliver squeezed Barry’s hand lightly.

              Barry shot Oliver a glare. “Don’t be such a defeatist.”

              “Tell me you’ll be okay if you can’t bring me back,” Oliver said. “Just tell me you’ll be able to forgive yourself.”

              “It won’t come to that,” Barry replied, as firmly as he could. He didn’t even want to think about it.

              “Please,” Oliver said softly. It would all be fine if he just knew that Barry wouldn’t be back home, beating himself up for it if Oliver couldn’t be saved. Oliver could walk into the League confidently if he knew that everyone would be okay without him.

              “You really shouldn’t be worrying about me right now,” Barry replied.

              Oliver’s lips quirked up in a small smile. “Can’t help it.”

              There were a few beats of silence as they stared ahead, unsure how to say goodbye. Barry just didn’t want to let go of Oliver’s hand and face that this was real. He had been holding it in, trying to be strong for Oliver. He didn’t know how much longer he could do it.

              Oliver finally turned towards Barry, putting a hand against his cheek. “Thank you, Barry. For everything. You've changed my life.”

              Barry leaned forward, resting his forehead against Oliver’s and closing his eyes. “I love you, Ollie.”

              “I love you, too,” Oliver replied. He kissed Barry, soft and slow, trying to commit this moment to memory as much as possible. Then he pulled away, walking towards the League and not looking back.

              Barry watched as Oliver walked away, feeling the air leave his lungs. He told himself over and over again that this wasn’t the end. They would never let this be the end. Barry was never going to give up on Oliver.

              He waited until Oliver had disappeared. He couldn’t make himself move. The sun was starting to rise by the time Barry headed back to Starling City, swallowing his tears, ready to make a plan to get Oliver back.

\---

              Oliver stepped up, gripping the ropes that hung from the ceiling, the air cold against his bare chest and back.

              “The word ‘assassin’ has fallen victim to many abuses of language, its real meaning hidden beneath a sediment of lies and falsehoods,” Ra’s said, circling him. “In truth, ‘assassin’ comes from _hashishiyya,_ which means ‘those who stand apart from society.’ Now, every man and woman here have renounced their past life and forfeited their identity for something new.”

              Oliver clenched his jaw, tightening his grip on the ropes.

              “And it is a cleansing only achieved by fire,” Ra’s continued emphatically. Oliver thought to himself that he could do without all the theatrics.

              He braced himself as he heard Ra’s step up behind him. He felt the burn of the arrow-shaped brand on his shoulder. He inhaled sharply, biting his tongue and staring straight ahead. The pain made his vision blur at the edges.

              “Embrace the pain,” Ra’s told him. “For it is your soul finally being unburdened.”

              Oliver released a breath as the pressure was taken off his shoulder, leaving the sting of the cold air against his skin. His soul didn’t feel unburdened in the slightest. But this was his life now.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arrow 3.21 (more or less)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right around now is when I start really ignoring the canon I don't like. Most of what I've changed so far has been what-if-Barry-were-on-the-team hypotheticals, but I have some issues with the end of season 3, and I'm gonna just change it. Hope everyone's on board with that, because it's happening. It'll be happening even more in the next couple chapters. Just a heads up for everyone.   
> (also, I'm still sorry about how long this is taking me. I know, it's been too long since the last chapter. I'm doing my best, I promise.)

              “It’s been three weeks,” Roy said, pacing in the foundry. “Shouldn’t we have a plan by now?”

              Barry sighed, exchanging a glance with Laurel. “Got any bright ideas, Roy?”

              Roy stopped pacing. “If it was one of us, he would’ve figured something out by now.”

              Barry’s gaze dropped to the ground. “Yeah, well. He’s not here. And the city still needs us. As much as I’d like to spend all of our free time and resources trying to make a plan to save Oliver, we can’t. He’d want us to be protecting the city while he’s gone.”

              Roy didn’t reply. He just crossed his arms and leaned against one of the tables.

              Laurel cleared her throat, straightening up. “So listen. I told Nyssa where Oliver is.”

              “Yeah?” Barry replied, turning his attention to her. “How’d she take it?”

              “Not very well,” Laurel said. “She walked away before I could really apologize for keeping it from her.”

              “What a surprise,” Felicity muttered as she spun in her chair at her computer.

              “Hey, cut her some slack. Think about who raised her,” Laurel replied.

              “The same guy who has Oliver,” Felicity retorted, her tone dry.

              “None of us have forgotten that, Felicity,” Barry said patiently.

              “Could’ve fooled me,” she said.

              Laurel glanced at Barry. “Maybe I’ll go find Nyssa. Try and apologize.”

              Barry nodded. “Good idea. Roy, uh, why don’t you patrol the city?”

              Roy gave a brisk nod and he and Laurel headed out of the foundry, leaving Barry and Felicity alone.

              Barry walked over, taking a seat in the chair next to Felicity. “So where’s Ray tonight?” he asked gingerly, trying to ease in.

              “Working,” Felicity said.

              “You know, we could bring him onto the team,” Barry said.

              “What, now that Oliver’s gone and can’t object to it?” she replied.

              “That’s not what I was getting at,” Barry replied, rubbing the back of his neck. The past three weeks, the entire team had been volatile, each taking turns being difficult or on edge. It had been Felicity as of late, impatient with the lack of action.

              Felicity glared at him. “I can’t believe you’re not doing more. I would’ve expected you of all people to be doing everything in your power to bring Oliver home. You have super-speed, why not just _go get him?”_

              Barry told himself she was only lashing out to keep from breaking down. Oliver was important to everyone. And it’s not like he’d been calm and collected for the entirety of these few weeks, either. “You know as well as I do that wouldn’t work.”

              “Don’t you love him?” she asked, her voice rising a little.

              Barry gave her a look. “You’re not being fair, Felicity.”

              Felicity let out a frustrated sigh, leaning back in her chair. “I know. I’m sorry. I just can’t stand this.”

              “You’re going through a hard time. We all are,” Barry said softly, putting a hand on her arm. “But we’re still a team. Aren’t we?”

              Felicity smiled weakly. “Of course we are.”

              “You should go spend some time with Ray,” Barry said, getting back up. “Maybe it’ll cheer you up.”

              Felicity nodded, giving Barry a quick hug before heading out.

              Alone in the Arrow Cave, Barry almost fell apart. He could hold it together for the team, but it was hard to be alone. 

              He stared at all the things in this room- the arrows, the computers. Everything Oliver had built. The evidence of the last three years of Oliver's life. He thought about the first time he was here, when he woke up out of a drug-induced haze and was asked to save the Starling City vigilante. He couldn't possibly have been prepared for what that would change about his life.

              Barry sighed, collapsing into a chair and leaning forward on his knees. The apartment was bad enough, but the whole city just felt so much emptier without Oliver. 

\---

              _Oliver Queen is alive only in the past. He is forgotten._

              Ra’s’ voice echoed in Oliver’s mind, in his ears. His life felt like a blur, an inconsistent mess throwing his guard off and taking his autonomy. He could barely tell where days ended and began anymore.

              He knew what this was. This was how he forgot himself. This was how the League made his believe his former life had been some kind of dream, something less than real. This, now, here, was all that was real anymore.

              _Oliver Queen is alive only in the past. He is forgotten._

              Oliver wasn’t real anymore.

              He was vaguely aware that he was chained to the floor, metal wrapped around his wrists and ankles. He vaguely understood the sunlight coming in through the windows, the shadow falling on the floor in front of him.

              His strength was dwindling. Or maybe he was just adapting.

              _Oliver Queen is alive only in the past. He is forgotten._

              _You are Al Sah-him._

\---

              Barry ran to the foundry at Laurel’s 911 text. She was there with Nyssa, looking distressed.

              “Did you contact the rest of the team?” Barry asked after he skidded a stop.

              Laurel nodded. “They’re all on their way. Well, except Roy. He’s staying with Thea tonight.”

              Barry turned to Nyssa. “So tell me what’s happening.”

              “Now that Oliver has accepted the offer, he will be coming for me. Ra’s will have told him to kill me by now,” she said, keeping her tone even.

              Two thoughts hit Barry. First, that Oliver would never do that. Second, that he might have to fight Oliver if it came to that. He wanted to believe the former.

              “Oliver- the Oliver I know wouldn’t do that,” Barry said, but he couldn’t make himself sound confident.

              “I believe you know that Oliver may not be as you remember him,” Nyssa replied. “He has been with my father for three weeks.”

              Barry bit the inside of his cheek. He had to face this. He didn’t want to.

              Felicity and Diggle didn’t take long to arrive, and they stood silently as Nyssa told them what was going to happen.

              “No,” Felicity said firmly. “No way. Oliver would never do that.”

              “Oliver Queen is dead,” Nyssa said evenly. Barry felt a stab to his chest. “He’s a memory.”

              “Apparently, the League has recruits go through a process of reprogramming,” Laurel said, her arms crossed.

              “You mean _brainwashing?”_ Felicity replied incredulously. “Oliver never said he was signing on for brainwashing.”

              Nyssa’s jaw clenched. “The process is shrouded in ritual. Oliver may not even know what was happening.”

              “No, no, Oliver is stronger than that,” Felicity said, her voice straining. She turned to Barry, eyes pleading. “Tell her. Tell her Oliver would never let that happen.”

              Barry broke eye contact quickly, his gaze falling to the floor. He crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s not about strength, Felicity. We don’t know what could’ve happened to him. We have to…” He paused, swallowing. “We have to face the fact that Oliver might… He…”

              “Perhaps it is better for you to not think of what Oliver has become,” Nyssa said. She paused for a moment before turning to walk away.

              Laurel glanced at Barry quickly before walking after Nyssa, stopping her before she left. “Wait, where are you going?”

              “To face him,” she replied. “And if necessary, my destiny.”

              Barry took a breath and walk towards them. “You don’t have to do this alone, Nyssa. We can help you. We _will_ help you.”

              “But Oliver is still _Oliver,_ ” Felicity protested, crossing her arms.

              Barry glanced towards her. “He might not be. And if he isn’t, we _will_ do everything it takes to get him back. Including fighting him if we need to. He might not be too far gone yet, but who knows when he will be?” He turned to Nyssa. “So what can we do?”

              Laurel shot Barry a grateful look before turning back to Nyssa. “Don’t give up yet,” she said softly.

              Nyssa hesitated, but she moved away from the door again.

              Barry took a breath, trying to keep calm, like he knew Oliver would have. He needed to keep his focus here, not think about what could happen later.

\---

              Oliver stood with several members of the League, staring out briefly into the night. The city looked as he remembered it- which was odd, since his time here felt so much like a dream in retrospect.

              He didn’t dwell on the nagging feeling in his chest that he was forgetting something, or the lingering desire to stare into the streets of Starling City and remember what it was like to be Oliver Queen. What was the use? That life was over, that person was gone.

              “Tonight, Nyssa al Ghul faces justice for her betrayal,” he said, his voice low and strong.

\---

              Nyssa heard the footsteps behind her. She didn’t bother turning; she knew who it was. “This is where my beloved’s spirit departed this world. Do you even remember Sara? Or has my father already obliterated her from your memory?”

              Oliver barely registered her words. “I’m here to bring you back to Nanda Parbat.”

              Nyssa turned. “To face justice? If so, for what crime? To face vengeance? If so, for what offence?”

              “You told me vengeance is justice,” Oliver replied coolly.

              “And you bested me in battle,” Nyssa replied. “That won’t happen again.”

              Barry and Laurel stood on the roof of a neighboring building, watching Nyssa and Oliver below. Barry’s heart just about stopped when he saw Oliver standing there, wearing the clothes of the League.

              He still looked like himself. That’s what hurt the most.

              “Are you sure you can do this?” Laurel said softly. “You don’t have to.”

              “What would Oliver have done if it were me?” Barry replied.

              Laurel smiled. “Oliver never would’ve let you go.”

              Barry chuckled. “He never would’ve been able to stop me.”

              The fight began, with Oliver shooting arrows towards Nyssa and her knocking them out of the air. Barry and Laurel stood back, watching them twist and lunge around each other. It was time.

              Barry took one last glance at Laurel. “Here we go,” he said.

              “Here we go,” she repeated.

              Barry ran them over to the other roof, positioning them between Nyssa and Oliver right as Oliver was about to land a strike. Barry shoved Oliver backwards before he could know what was happening.

              Oliver hit the ground. His eyes met Barry’s, and Barry almost flinched at how cold they were.

              “We won’t let you hurt her,” Laurel said, her voice strong.

              Barry couldn’t speak. It was _Oliver._ The man who had offered him a spot on the team, and who he’d offered a place to sleep in return. The man who had kissed him before voluntarily going to his death- twice. He just watched as Oliver silently stood up, walking backwards towards the edge of the roof before jumping down.

              Barry kept telling himself that Oliver wasn’t dead. He’d seen him. He was alive, which meant he could still be saved. He wanted to believe that more than anything. But all he could see was Oliver’s cold, unfeeling eyes. Barry was more shaken by that than he wanted to admit.

\---

              "There was doubt you would return,” Maseo said as Oliver walk towards him. “Not from me. What happened?”

              “Nyssa had friends,” Oliver replied.

              “I warned you not to face her alone. These friends of Nyssa’s-  were they friends of yours?” Maseo asked.

              Oliver heard the question, but he couldn’t find an answer. He knew who those two people on the roof were. “They’ll be protecting her now,” he said, instead of responding. “We need to draw her out.”

              _Oliver Queen is alive only in the past. He is forgotten._

              But those two people he saw… Laurel Lance and Barry Allen. They had been friends of Oliver Queen. They did not seem to have forgotten him.

              Oliver didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t want to dwell on some vague, dreamlike past. He only ever existed as Al Sah-him. Every other version of him was dead. There was nothing to go back to.

              That’s what he knew. That’s what he’d been told.

\---

              “Shouldn’t Laurel have come, too?” Roy asked as they stood outside of Diggle’s place.

              “She’s with Nyssa,” Barry said. “She insisted.”

              “The rest of us should stay close though,” Diggle said, unlocking the door. “Just in case…” he trailed off after crossing the threshold.

              “John?” Felicity said softly.

              Diggle brought a finger to his lips to tell her to keep quiet as he pulled out his gun and took a few slow steps forward.

              Felicity gave Barry a panicked look, and Barry tried to smile reassuringly before turning his attention back to Diggle.

              The sound of Baby Sara crying reached them and Diggle rushed towards her. “Lyla?” he called. He put the gun away, picking up Sara and bouncing her for a few moments. Then his phone started to ring.

              Roy took Sara as Diggle answered his phone.

_“John,”_ Oliver’s voice came through the speaker.

              “Oliver?” Diggle replied hesitantly.

              “ _First, let me assure you that no harm will come to Lyla if you do exactly as I say,”_ Oliver continued. _“Bring Nyssa to the warehouse at Fullerton and Halsted, and I’ll let your wife go.”_

              “Oliver, I swear, if you do anything to Lyla…”

_“You have thirty minutes.”_

              Barry ran his hand through his hair. Oliver’s voice sounded the same. He didn’t know what he expected.

              “How could…” Felicity started, her voice shaking.

              “It’s still possible he’s faking, right? Just to trick the League?” Roy said, almost hopefully, as he held Sara.

              Barry exchanged a glance with Diggle. “We have to assume that Oliver is serious right now,” Barry replied, trying to keep his voice calm. “We have to assume he’s brainwashed.”

\---

              Laurel stood in front of Nyssa almost protectively as they explained the situation to her. _Oliver and the League have taken Lyla, Baby Sara is with Thea and Roy, and Oliver is asking for Nyssa_.

              “What is _wrong_ with you?” Diggle snapped at Nyssa.

              “Dig,” Barry said softly, putting a hand on Diggle’s arm, trying to calm him down.

              “It is _not_ Nyssa’s fault,” Laurel replied, stepping closer to Nyssa.

              “Don’t take it out on Nyssa,” Barry said, angling himself between Laurel and Diggle. “This is the League.”

              “Yeah, _her_ father _,”_ Diggle replied angrily.

              “Back off,” Laurel snapped.

              “I am truly sorry,” Nyssa said, her voice calm and sincere. “I never meant for any harm to come to you or your family.”

              “Yeah, Nyssa? Then _prove it._ Hand yourself over to the League,” Diggle said, keeping his glare on her.

              “What?” Laurel replied incredulously. “We’re just gonna give in? Turn over an innocent person?”

              “She’s not innocent,” Diggle replied harshly. “She’s the daughter of the demon.”

              “Hey,” Barry said, raising his voice slightly. “This isn’t how we do things, Dig. The League is after Nyssa, too. This isn’t her fault.”

              “The only thing that matters is getting Lyla back,” Felicity said, taking a step forward.

              “I don’t care how we do it,” Diggle replied, throwing a glare towards Barry.

              “Yes, you do,” Laurel said. “Trading one person’s life for another? We’re supposed to be better than that.”

              “It’s alright,” Nyssa said, stepping around Laurel. “You should exchange me for your beloved.”

              “Nyssa, wait,” Barry said. “We can find another way.”

              “I won’t see an innocent life taken for mine,” Nyssa continued.

              Laurel grabbed Nyssa’s arm. “No, Nyssa, I’m not letting you commit suicide.”

              “Neither am I,” Barry said. He turned back towards Diggle. “Diggle, come on.”

              “Where’s the exchange to take place?” Nyssa said.

              “No. There has to be another way,” Laurel said, looking at Barry before turning to Diggle. “Another way to get Lyla back without turning Nyssa over to the League. And if there isn’t, even if you get Lyla back safe and sound, Oliver won’t be the only one who lost his soul.”

              Diggle clenched his jaw, maintaining eye contact with Laurel for a few more moments before looking at the floor.

              “Everyone just take a breath, we can figure this out,” Barry said evenly, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. He couldn’t let the team fall apart- Oliver wouldn’t want that. Not that he knew what Oliver would want anymore.

\---

              Oliver paced calmly in the warehouse. All there was to do was wait. He would get Nyssa. It was his mission here, his only goal. He’d see it through.

              “What happened to you?” Lyla said from the chair she was tied to. “Johnny told me, but how could you become this?”

              “Quiet,” Oliver replied, unconcerned with what she was saying. “It’ll be over soon.”

              “No, I genuinely want to know,” Lyla said.

              “Quiet,” Oliver repeated.

              “You’ve been like a brother to John,” she continued. “How could you do this to him?”

              Oliver didn’t hear it. She was talking to some imagined version of him that didn’t exist anymore. She was talking to the man she knew before the League. That man wasn’t real. Oliver knew that. He was a little confused as to why everyone else didn’t understand yet.

_Oliver Queen is alive only in the past. He is forgotten._

              “It’s time,” Maseo said, walking up.

              Oliver nodded and turned, walking out with him. They stood silently for a few minutes, the cold air still.

              Maseo broke the silence. “They’re here.”

              Oliver saw these people walk towards him, stopping several yards away. He had a vague, distant understanding that he once knew these people. Or at least, they believed they knew him. Nyssa stood with them, which was all that truly mattered.

              “Search them,” he told Maseo calmly. Maseo walked over to do as instructed.

              “Where’s my wife?” Diggle burst out when Maseo reached them. “ _Where’s my wife?”_

              “Don’t touch me,” Felicity snapped when Maseo got to her. He glanced back at Oliver, who gave a quick nod. Maseo moved on.

              Barry felt a sliver of relief. At least one thing went according to plan. There were just too many things he needed to be worrying about right now. He could barely handle all this.

              With a pain in his chest, he thought about how Oliver would know what to do.

              If Oliver were here.

              He found himself staring at Oliver- or at least, the Oliver that the League had claimed. He looked like Barry’s Oliver. Or he would’ve if his expression weren’t so blank and cold. Oliver was often stoic, but he wasn’t heartless.

              Barry thought about his promise to bring Oliver home. What if it was too late?

              Oliver gestured with a flick of his wrist, and a League member brought Lyla out, her arms bound behind her back.

              “You son of a bitch,” Diggle said. “Whatever Ra’s did to you…”

              “Oliver…” Barry said softly. Oliver’s expression didn’t change. No crack in his façade. It was possible that he was keeping up an act for the League, but… with kidnapping Lyla and demanding Nyssa, it seemed unlikely. Barry just didn’t want to give up hope. He didn’t want to admit what was happening.

              Oliver’s gaze flicked over to Nyssa. “Bind her,” he ordered. As the League members tied her wrists, he turned to Lyla. “You’re free to go.”

              Lyla ran to Diggle the moment her arms were untied, right as Nyssa was led over to the League.

              Laurel glanced at Barry, her eyes pained. Barry couldn’t offer even a reassuring smile. This was the moment.

              Lyla went to hug Felicity after Diggle murmured his hint, and she grabbed the two guns out of Felicity’s coat, turning and quickly firing at two League members. The fighting broke out immediately, the League members pulling out swords and rushing towards them.

              Diggle, Lyla, and Laurel braced themselves. Barry ran straight for Oliver.

              He immediately knocked Oliver’s legs out from under him, making him fall to his back.

              “Oliver, please, you don’t have to do this,” Barry said. He could hear the desperation in his voice. He optimistically reached out a hand to help Oliver up.

              Oliver’s eyes narrowed. He jumped up and lunged towards Barry, slashing forward with his sword.

              Barry quickly sped out of the way, dodging Oliver’s swift attacks. “Oliver, _please,_ you can’t just be gone,” Barry pleaded. He kept on the defensive, wanting to avoid any actual fighting. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to hurt Oliver. He couldn’t say the same for Oliver.

              Oliver managed to slice Barry’s arm as he ran out of the way just a little too slowly. He stopped for a moment, clapping a hand over to cut and wincing. Oliver lunged forward with his sword again in the pause. Barry ran towards him, pulling the sword from his hands and kicking it away.

              Barry noticed he was a little dangerously close to Oliver, but he didn’t move away, keeping their faces just inches apart. His heart hurt at how close they were.

              “Oliver, come on, don’t do this,” he murmured, trying to drown out the fighting going on around them. “I don’t want to fight you.”

              Oliver didn’t answer.

              It killed Barry that Oliver wasn’t saying anything. He was even responding with anger or snark- he was just silent. Like there was nothing left to say. Like he no longer cared about Barry one way or the other.

              Barry thought back to when he had been affected by Bivolo and Oliver had to fight him. He remembered hating Oliver- he remembered snapping and throwing insults. He remembered being angry. But he also remembered that it was Bivolo’s powers drawing upon his already strong feelings towards Oliver and switching them to deep anger.

              Oliver’s feelings hadn’t been shifted or replaced. They’d been erased.

              Barry looked into Oliver’s eyes and there was nothing there. It basically knocked the wind right out of him, the air leaving his lungs. It hit him. He’d lost Oliver. When he let Oliver leave, he’d lost him.

              In Barry’s moment of weakness, Oliver took advantage of the distraction, of the pause in movement. He grabbed his sword off the ground and he stabbed through Barry’s thigh.

              Barry yelled in pain and fell to the ground. He looked up at Oliver hopelessly, his vision blurring from the pain. Oliver showed no reaction.

              Barry pulled back his cowl, the beginnings of tears stinging his eyes. “Oliver, this isn’t you,” he said, his voice strained. “Please, snap out of it. I can’t lose you. I love you.”

              His voice cracked. Oliver’s expression didn’t.

              Oliver took a step towards Barry, holding his sword up, poised to run it through Barry’s chest. It felt like the world had frozen. Barry made no move to get away, just stared up at Oliver’s cold eyes. If this was going to happen, he was going to let it. He couldn’t bring himself to move.

              The moment dragged on, Barry barely breathing. He wanted to believe that Oliver, no matter what, would never kill him. But he couldn’t have that kind of faith right now.

              Oliver’s blank expression never changed, but he lowered the sword, straightened his spine, and walked away. Barry stared after him as he followed the League members who’d managed to capture Nyssa.

              Barry couldn’t move. The blood was pooling around his leg and he just stared as Oliver and the League disappeared with Nyssa.

              At least Oliver hadn’t killed him. What a consolation prize.

\---

              The mood back at the foundry was dark. Diggle and Felicity were by the computers, staring at the floor. Barry was leaning against a table, waiting for his leg to heal on its own. Laurel paced.

              “They’re going to kill Nyssa,” she said, her voice strained and distressed. “Either Oliver or her father, they’re gonna kill her. I can’t believe this.”

              “I’m sorry, Laurel,” Felicity said quietly.

              “Has anyone told Thea and Roy about this?” Diggle asked.

              “We can deal with that tomorrow,” Felicity replied. “I think we’ve had enough for tonight.”

              “What are we supposed to do now?” Laurel said, pushing her hair behind her ears.

              “There’s nothing left to do,” Barry replied, crossing his arms. He tried to imagine what Oliver would say in this situation. How he would react. How he would keep control over himself. Barry took a deep breath, channeling Oliver's stoicism. “We need to face facts. Oliver is beyond saving. We’re not getting him back.” Barry bit the inside of his cheek. It was hard keeping his voice even. He didn't know how Oliver could keep the emotion out of situations like this. 

              “You don’t know that,” Felicity replied weakly.

              “I do,” Barry replied. “And so do you. All we have now is his legacy, and the mission he left behind.”

              “So that’s it? You’re just giving up on him?” Felicity replied, her voice getting harsher by the word.

              Barry looked at her, keeping his expression steady and his shoulders back. “Felicity, I don’t want to believe it any more than you do, but the Oliver we knew is gone. He kidnapped Lyla. He nearly killed me.”

              Felicity dropped her gaze. “Maybe I’ll go talk to Thea and Roy tonight after all. Shouldn’t put this off.”

              Diggle put a hand on her shoulder. “Let me take you there.”

              Felicity nodded. She got up and walked swiftly out of the room, not looking at Barry as she went.

              Diggle got up to follow, pausing for a moment. “She’s not mad at you.”

              Barry nodded and Diggle left after Felicity.

              Barry’s composure shattered the second they were out of view. He fell into one of the chairs, his head in his hands, his breathing shaky.

              He had no idea how Oliver always managed to keep his cool. Oliver was always able to keep his shoulders back, his face blank. He had control and Barry was just about to fall apart. Barry could never be the leader that Oliver was. And Oliver was gone.

              Laurel silently sat down next to him. “Barry?”

              Barry tried to pull himself together. He straightened his spine, but his breathing was still uneven and there were tears ready to spill over his eyelashes. “I’m sorry about Nyssa,” he said, his voice shaking. “I should’ve run after her. I’m sorry I didn’t save her.”

              Laurel shook her head. “This isn’t all on you,” she said. “We all lost today.”

              The tears started streaming down Barry’s face and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to regain any sense of control. But all he could see were Oliver’s cold eyes. How was he supposed to mourn someone who wasn’t dead?

              Laurel put a hand on Barry’s arm. “Neither of us should be alone right now. And we shouldn’t stay here.”

              Barry took a breath and wiped the tears from his cheeks quickly. “Where should we go?”

              Laurel thought for a moment. “You want to get fries and milkshakes?”

              “Sure,” Barry replied, his voice hollow. He put an arm around Laurel, hugging her briefly before they headed out of the foundry.

\---

              Nyssa looked up at Oliver, straight in the eyes, as Oliver got his sword ready to kill her. She knew this was coming. She knew it had been inevitable. She was not going to blink or flinch or show fear. She had nothing to regret, nothing to lose.

              Her mind went to the diner with Laurel, where they had fries and milkshakes and she felt like she could have a life like that. It was the last time she would ever be happy. She held that memory, the image of Laurel smiling at her, as the sword started to come down.

              Her father stopped Oliver’s arm. “You have broken your opponent,” he said. “To spill her blood now would just be gluttonous.”

              Nyssa couldn’t feel relief. Her father was never one to have mercy. If he was to spare her life, it was only because he had a worse fate waiting for her. She got back to her feet, ready to accept some new form of torture or death, a more creative end.

              “Her blood will serve a new purpose,” Ra’s said, looking at Nyssa like she didn’t have a voice or agency of her own. “To unite our two families, to produce an heir. As wife of the demon.”

              Oliver didn’t show any sign of reacting. Nyssa stiffened. “I would rather die than marry him,” she said coldly.

              Her father met her gaze. “I stopped having any concern for your desires after you betrayed me,” he replied. “You will stay here, as bride of the demon, and you do not get a say.”

              He walked past Nyssa and Oliver, head held high.

              Nyssa felt her insides turn. The idea of marrying Oliver was bad enough, but the idea of producing his heir was unthinkable. Oliver hadn’t moved, and she could only hope that he was as unhappy with the arrangement as she was.

              Her mind drifted to Laurel once more.

\---

              Ra’s led Oliver to the Lazarus Pit, holding a vial carefully in his hand.

              “There is one final thing you must do before your ascension,” he explained. “Before you can fully transform into the Demon’s Head.”

              Oliver stood silently and patiently waiting for his instructions. There was nothing left in him but thoughts of the League, his dedication to his role here. Whatever Ra’s al Ghul said was to be his mission.

              “You must fully erase your former self, your former home,” Ra’s said. “My predecessor wiped away Alexandria, Egypt with cholera in 1609. You will do the same with your former city.” Ra’s held up the vial for Oliver to see. “Do you recognize this?”

              “The Alpha and Omega bioweapon,” Oliver responded.

              “The beginning and the end,” Ra’s replied, studying the vial for a moment. “Today, you will unleash this on Starling City.”

              Oliver understood. Sacrifices had to be made.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a year since I started this fic. Wild. Anyway, continuing with the theme of Ignoring Canon. I think there are only a few chapters left of this fic, but I don't really know.

              Barry sped back into the foundry, having just delivered two drug dealers and a purse snatcher to the police station. He slid to a stop in front of the computer next to Felicity’s and quickly pulled up the police scanner to see what else was happening. There was a bank robbery on fifth avenue and a car chase on the highway.

              “Barry-” Felicity started to say, but he sped out of the room before she could get anything out.

              He got to the bank robber first, tying the guy up and leaving him right outside the door on the sidewalk. He didn’t bother to check on the bank tellers or the hostages. He didn’t wait for the police to get there. They were on their way, anyway.

              The highway chase was a little trickier, but Barry managed to take care of it pretty fast. He pulled the driver out, put the guy in the back of the police car before he could tell what was happening, and then he stopped the car, slamming on the brakes and letting it skid to a stop. The police swerved out of the way as they tried to slow down. Barry didn’t worry about it.

              He ran back to the foundry before checking that everyone was okay.

              The second he stopped by the computer, Diggle grabbed his arm.

              “Barry, can you stop for a second?” Diggle said, sounding exasperated.

              “There’s still more to do,” Barry replied quickly. He tried to pull his arm away, but Diggle didn’t let go.

              “You’re being reckless and you’re being careless,” Diggle said. He frowned, pressing his lips together. “You gotta stop this.”

              “You’re one to talk,” Barry retorted. “You didn’t exactly hold back on the gang members you caught earlier.”

              Diggle sighed heavily. “Maybe I got a little carried away.”

              “Look, I’m just doing my job here,” Barry said, pulling his arm away again. Diggle let go this time.

              “Like you have some kind of quota,” Felicity chimed in.

              Barry shot her a look, but he didn’t say anything. It wasn’t like he didn’t know what he was doing. He just needed to keep himself moving, and this was the best way to do it. He knew they were right, he just didn’t want to admit it. “Has Roy been back yet?”

              Felicity shook her head. “He’s still with Thea. She’s not taking this well.”

              “Who is?” Diggle muttered, crossing his arms.

              “Where’s Laurel?” Barry asked.

              “Still at work,” Felicity replied. She sighed, leaning forward. “I can’t believe this is happening again.”

              “None of us can,” Diggle said. He leaned forward, glaring at the floor. “Oliver _kidnapped_ Lyla.”

              “It wasn’t Oliver,” Felicity said softly.

              “You don’t really believe that,” Diggle said, his voice a little harsh.

              Barry rubbed the back of his neck and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “Uh, I think, um. I think you guys were right. I should, uh… I should call it a night.” He sped quickly out of the room, desperate to get away from the conversation.

              He stopped outside his apartment door. His hand hovered over the doorknob for a few moments. He remembered walking in those few weeks after Oliver had fought and lost against Ra’s. When they had to presume Oliver was dead. He remembered that day, when he walked in and saw Oliver standing there like he’d never been gone.

              Barry squeezed his eyes shut. He saw Oliver’s hesitant smile in his mind. He remembered how he felt, like the world was being put back together. He remembered almost questioning how Oliver was back. He remembered kissing him.

              This was different. He knew this was different. But no amount of reminding himself of that would silence that tiny optimistic voice of hope saying _maybe. Maybe it’ll be just like last time. Maybe Oliver will be there, waiting for you. Maybe._

              Barry opened the door to a dark and empty apartment. He swallowed the disappointment and resigned himself to this life.

\---

              Nyssa sat at the dinner table after being guided over by members of the League. She didn’t bother to avoid looking at her father or Oliver, glaring at both of them defiantly. She was only surprised that she had expected better from her father at all.

              “I’m not hungry,” she said coldly.

              Her father seemed unconcerned. He went on talking, mostly to Oliver as though Nyssa wasn’t really there. He mentioned the wedding, he mentioned the expectation of an heir. Nyssa knew he only wanted to get a rise out of her. She stayed stoic. He wasn’t going to get the satisfaction.

              It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to marry Oliver. And she certainly wasn’t going to have his child.

              She glared straight at Oliver, trying to gauge how far gone he already was. It had only been a few weeks. She needed to believe that he could be pulled back from the indoctrination.

              The Oliver she knew in Starling City wouldn’t go through with this arrangement any more than she would. If she was to defeat her father and bring him down, she was going to have to try and bring that Oliver back. Or at least get him away from the League and back to Starling. 

              In a moment of distraction, she pulled a knife from the table, tucking it in her sleeve. She could figure out a plan. She always did.

              She would get herself out of this arrangement, Oliver out of this indoctrination, and she would stop Starling City from getting destroyed. There was only the matter of how.

              She needed to find those few members still loyal to her rather than her father. There weren’t many, but they existed. She needed to get a message out to Laurel and Barry, and she needed to get Oliver alone.

              Nyssa very rarely felt anxious. But this was one of those time.

\---

               Barry lay on the couch in his living room, staring at the ceiling. He hated being home but he hated being out, too. This was the second time he had to grieve Oliver. He wasn’t enjoying it.

              He kept expecting Oliver to just be here when he got back, or to just walk in through the front door. After the amount of times Oliver had cheated death, it seemed insane that this is what would finally do it.

              He wasn’t even dead. He was just _gone._

              And Barry had let him go.

              Barry just kept going over every conversation in his mind, thinking of all the things he could’ve said, all the ways he could’ve tried to convince Oliver to stay. They could’ve found another way, right? Barry never should’ve let Oliver go without a fight.

              Oliver was just always ready to sacrifice himself for the greater good. Barry should’ve told him that it wasn’t worth it. That the world was better off with him in it. That there was still so much left to do, that Oliver couldn’t leave yet.

              Barry just kept thinking about the multiverse theory and those versions of himself and Oliver that got to live happily ever after in Coast City with a dog. They must be so happy. Barry envied them. And hated them, just a little bit.

              They hadn’t even really gotten the chance to try. There hadn’t been enough time. It killed Barry. They’d deserved a shot at happiness. Hadn’t they? Hadn’t they earned that? After everything?

              Oliver had been presumed dead, he’d been tortured, he’d been hunted… He didn’t deserve this end. He didn’t deserve to be brainwashed into becoming a villain. Barry could only imagine what he’d say. Barry was just glad Oliver didn’t have to _know_ that this is what became of him.

              Barry kept circling these thoughts, going over how _wrong_ everything was, until he eventually drifted off into a restless sleep.

              _He was standing beside Oliver in Central City, right by the water where he’d brought Bette into the ocean after she died. The air was hazy, like fog was rolling in._

_Barry looked around, confused for a moment. He had a vague understanding that this wasn’t real. Oliver was gone. Wasn’t he? Barry glanced over at Oliver, half expecting him to disappear into thin air right then._

_He tried to remember how they got there. He must’ve run. Why didn’t he remember where they were before? Why didn’t he remember the trip?_

_“Oliver?” he said. His voice seemed to echo._

_Oliver turned and smiled. “Yeah?”_

_“Don’t go,” Barry replied. It suddenly felt urgent. He knew that something bad would happen if he let Oliver go. He didn’t know how he knew, but he was sure about it._

_“I have to,” Oliver said. He didn’t sound concerned._

_“No, you don’t,” Barry said. “We can find another way. Stay. Please.”_

_“Barry, it’s not even a discussion,” Oliver replied. He turned to Barry, cocked his head slightly to the side. “What would you do in my place?”_

_“Ollie, you don’t understand,” Barry said, his voice getting strained._

_“It’ll be okay, Barry,” Oliver replied. His voice was fainter, like he was fading away._

_“No, it won’t,” Barry said. He tried to move towards Oliver, touch his arm, but with every step he took, Oliver seemed farther away._

Barry woke up to someone knocking on his door, loud and urgent. He groggily got up, rubbing his eyes. He opened the door to see Laurel, looking panicked.

              Laurel didn’t wait to be invited in, just pushed past Barry and closed the door and locked it behind her. “Barry, we have a situation,” she said, pacing.

              Barry raised his eyebrows. “What kind of situation?”

              “Large scale,” she replied. She stopped pacing and grabbed Barry’s arm, looking desperately into his eyes. “Barry, I heard from Nyssa.”

              Barry stared, fully awake now. “What? What do you mean you heard from Nyssa?”

              “I _mean_ she got a message to me,” Laurel replied, slightly impatiently. “Through a League member. I got a letter from her.”

              “Are you sure it’s her?” Barry asked slowly.

              Laurel glared. “ _Yes,_ I’m sure. This isn’t just wishful thinking. Nyssa’s alive, and she needs our help. And honestly, we need hers, too.”

              Barry didn’t say anything for a few moments. It did sound like it could be a trap. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay,” he replied. “But we have to be prepared for anything.”

              Laurel pursed her lips and reluctantly nodded.

\---

              Nyssa could only hope that her message reached Laurel in time. They did not have much time left before her father and Oliver went to destroy Starling City. If she couldn’t get everyone involved, it would be too late.

              Nyssa paced in her room, essentially her prison now. This was not the direction she’d wanted this to take. Her father had raised her. She’d loved him, even believed that he loved her, too. She supposed her sister had the right idea by leaving. She would’ve loved to have already escaped her father by now.

              But it wasn’t only that. It wasn’t only that she knew she had to defeat her father in order to gain her freedom. After everything, she couldn’t sit back and watch as her father made Oliver destroy Starling City. Oliver wasn’t her favorite person, but she didn’t believe he deserved this fate.

              There was, of course, also the matter of who remained in Starling City. Nyssa had grown fond of Laurel. Even if she managed to warn Laurel in time to get out of the city, she knew that wouldn’t work. Laurel wasn’t the type to run away. She was going to try to save the city, whether Nyssa helped or not. And so she didn’t truly have a choice.

              Her father walked in the room and she immediately stopped and got tense. “Relax, my child,” he said.

              “Another order I cannot follow,” she replied, her voice cold.

              “You speak to me as though I’m a monster,” he said. “I’m your father, Nyssa.”

              Nyssa clenched her jaw. She no longer felt like he had the right to call himself that. “Then why do you ask me to marry someone I do not love?”

              He began telling her the story of how he met her mother. Nyssa had heard the story before. She was barely listening, refusing to make eye contact. His tactic wouldn’t work. He could not emotionally manipulate her by talking about her late mother.

              Her mother would never have approved of _this._

              He took out a large box, opening it to reveal a shiny and sparkling necklace that had belonged to her mother. Nyssa couldn’t help it—she let out a small gasp.

              “I kept this, in the hopes that someday, you would wear it on your wedding day,” he said, almost kindly.

              With that, Nyssa snapped back into her cold demeanor. “You expect me to marry Al Sah-him because of some trinket?” she hissed.

              Her father’s performative warmth vanished. He stepped forward, grapping her roughly. “I expect you to marry Al Sah-him because it is my will. You defy that, and I will see you suffer the pain of a thousand deaths.”

              He let go of her, glaring. Nyssa looked down, biting her tongue. She knew what he was doing, but she was not a child anymore. He could not scare her as easily as he once could. He had trained her to not be afraid, after all. Years of knowing him prepared her for plenty of threats and blows.

              He walked away from her briskly, and she clutched the knife she’d pulled from the table. She would get out of this. Her father had always underestimated her. He would only live long enough to regret that.

              “Grant me one kindness, father,” Nyssa said, swallowing her pride. She hated to have to do this.

              He paused by the door. “What is your request?”

              “Offer me some time to prepare,” she replied. “Set the wedding for after you return from destroying Starling.”

              There was a moment of silence. “I hope you do not intend to try to escape during that time.”

              “I know this place well,” Nyssa replied easily. “I know better than to believe I would be capable of escaping.”

              “I will grant this request,” he said. “But do not think I will change my mind in that time. You will marry Al Sah-him as soon as we return.” With that, he left.

              Nyssa let out a slow breath. At least she didn’t have another thing to worry about. Either she will have saved Starling City, or failed and been killed. Either way, she wasn’t going to marry Oliver. Whatever was left of him, anyway.

\---

              “How sure are we that this is happening?” Felicity said, her arms crossed over her chest.

              “I trust Nyssa,” Laurel said, a little sharply.

              “So what does she need us to do?” Barry asked, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t want to believe that Oliver could ever be capable of that kind of destruction. But who knows what the League had done to him?

              “She and some rogue members of the League are taking care of a lot of it,” Laurel said. “She needs us to be there when they arrive- she’s going to try to go with her father and Oliver, but she might not be able to make it. She might have to sneak out after them.”

              “So we have two versions of the plan?” Diggle asked.

              “Well, we barely have a plan at all,” Laurel admitted. 

              Diggle sighed. "Great. I love improvising."

\---

              Nyssa sat crosslegged on her floor, bringing her attention to her breathing. If she managed to achieve a sense of calm, it would be far easier to defeat her father. She couldn’t be afraid of him when she faced him. And it was now or never.

              A gentle knock on her door brought her out of her meditation. She got to her feet and opened the door cautiously.

              Maseo stood there, looking grim as ever.

              “Have my father and Oliver left for Starling City yet?” she asked, her voice low.

              Maseo nodded. “I couldn’t get you onto their plane. We’ll have to gather the League members on our side and take a different plane to follow them.”

              “Very well,” Nyssa replied. “How far behind them will we be?”

              “An hour,” Maseo said. “Your friends in Starling City will have to stall for that long.”

              She paused a moment. “How many people do we have?”

              Maseo hesitated. “Fifteen,” he answered.

              “More than I expected,” Nyssa said.

              “Still not enough,” Maseo replied.

              Nyssa gave a very slight smile. “We have all that we need,” she said, pulling confidence into her words. If she managed to believe them, that would have to be enough. She had to have faith that her father could be defeated, that Oliver could be saved. There were no other options. Failure was unthinkable.

              “We’re ready when you are,” Maseo told her.

              Nyssa nodded. “Then we better get going. We do not want my father to get more of an advantage than he already has.”

              Maseo nodded back, beginning to turn away. He paused. “I’d like to apologize. For the part I played in helping your father.”

              “You’re forgiven, Maseo,” Nyssa replied. “As long as you help me stop him now.”

              Maseo bowed his head before walking out.

              Nyssa took a breath. Now or never. One way or another, she was going to end this.


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finals week again. I have a paper that I'm putting off. My writing habits are predictable.

              Laurel checked the time quickly, trying to keep track of where everyone had to be. “Felicity,” she said into the comms. “Have you gotten to Ray yet?”

              “ _Not quite,”_ Felicity replied. “ _I tried his apartment, I’m heading to his office now. I sent him a message, he knows there’s an emergency we need his help with.”_

              “Keep me posted,” Laurel replied.

              Barry watched as Laurel paced restlessly. They were the last two team members remaining in the foundry.

              They had two main plans—the plan to avoid the League getting into the city at all, and the back up plan. The team back at S.T.A.R. Labs was going to help by keeping track of the planes coming into Starling City. They were to call Felicity once they saw something, and Felicity was going to try to see if she could remotely control the plane and ground it outside the city limits. Felicity had set up the programs required to do that, and she was ready to start whenever.

              As for if that plan didn’t work, Diggle and Lyla were working with Argus to plant agents throughout the city, making sure that there were eyes everywhere. Quentin made sure to have extra officers on patrol. Roy and Thea were taking Baby Sara to Central City, just in case. And Felicity was on her way to get Ray to ask him to work on something that could neutralize the airborne contagion.

              Which left Laurel and Barry to wait for Ra’s and Oliver. They stayed at the foundry, ready to go to where Felicity grounds the plane or to where Cisco says it lands. They needed to stall Ra’s until Nyssa and the members loyal to her arrived. Laurel and Barry were ready to call Lyla and Malcolm Merlyn so that they could send back up when they knew where to go.

              The waiting was excruciating. Laurel was still biting her nails, hoping that Nyssa made it, too. Barry was just dreading facing Oliver again.

              Laurel paused, nudging Barry with her elbow. “He’ll be okay, Barry. You just have to have faith.”

              Barry wasn’t so sure, but he didn’t argue. “She’ll be okay, too.”

              Laurel smiled. “If I have faith in anyone, it’s Nyssa.”

              Barry nodded. “There’s not much she can’t do.”

              Laurel went back to pacing. “Are you ready to see Oliver?”

              Barry laughed humorlessly. “Not even a little,” he said. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “What if we still can’t get him back after this?”

              Laurel glanced at him. “The League has only had Oliver a few weeks. The indoctrination is intense, but Oliver has come back from worse.”

              “At a certain point, he can only come back from so much,” Barry said softly. “What if this is it? What if this is what kills him?”

              Laurel squeezed Barry’s shoulder, continuing to pace. “Find your optimism again. We have to believe it’ll turn out okay.”

              Barry was about to say something else when his phone rang. He answered it immediately.

              _“The plane is coming in,”_ Cisco said. _“Felicity is working on hacking it. Be ready.”_

              Barry’s heart pounded. He looked at Laurel. She put her mask on.

              They had time to stand and tense up when Felicity’s voice came through the comms.

              _“I got control of the plane,”_ Felicity said quickly. _“It’ll crash on the hill by the Starling City limits sign—I don’t know how bad the damage will be.”_

              “What about Oliver?” Barry replied, his chest tightening. The thought of Oliver dying in a plane crash after all this made him want to scream. They could never catch a break.

              Felicity paused. _“I tried to land it safely, but this is the best I can do. I’m sorry.”_

              Barry froze for a moment, time slowing around him, almost to a stop. He lingered in that second of time, memorizing what would possibly be the last moment he believed that Oliver was alive. He knew what could happen.

              He had a strong, painful visual of arriving at the scene of the place crash, the Staring City sign looming beside him, Laurel bracing herself for a fight. He saw League members climbing out of the wreckage. He saw Ra’s emerging from the smoke, unscathed.

              In Barry’s mind, he took three seconds to go into the burning plane, looking for Oliver. Or whatever remained of him. The image that was the most vivid, the most intrusive, was Oliver Queen lying on the ground, covered in blood, eyes closed. Barry saw himself leaning down, touching Oliver’s face, checking his pulse.

              Barry almost wanted to stay in this one second in the foundry, before he went into a moment that he could never give back, before he gained a memory he could never get rid of. It could be the last time that Oliver was alive in his mind.

              The benefits of being a speedster meant that neither Felicity nor Laurel could tell that Barry had just had one of the longest moments of his life. Time moved normally for them in that second. Barry wasn’t sure it ever ended.

              Barry squared his shoulders and took a breath. He called up all the courage and optimism he could, feeling the lightning wrapped itself around him. He picked up Laurel and ran her to the plane crash.

              They got there right as Ra’s and three League members were coming out of the wreckage.

              Ra’s brushed himself off, seemingly unharmed. He looked almost amused. “So this is all the protection that Starling City gets?” he said, looking at Barry and Laurel. “I cannot say that I am impressed.”

              “Then what are you waiting for?” Laurel replied, bracing herself.

              “I am just not certain this little fight is worth my time,” Ra’s said, taking a few steps forward. “I have other matters to attend to.”

              With a flick of his wrist, Ra’s sent the three League members beside him towards Laurel and Barry. Without pausing or looking back, Ra’s turned and walked calmly away.

              Barry knocked out one of the League members before he got distracted by the flames, leaving Laurel to fight the remaining two.

              _But where’s Oliver?_ Barry felt his heart pound. They’d only seen the three League members and Ra’s emerge. No one else had come out of the crashed plane yet. Barry turned to look at Laurel, to make sure she had her fight under control. And then he ran headfirst into the smoke.

              The inside of the plane was chaotic and hot. The smoke was thick. Barry suppressed a cough, covering his mouth with his arm. He squinted his eyes to look for any signs of life. He found it difficult to move as fast as usual, the smoke in his lungs slowing him down.

              He stepped carefully around the debris, eyes scanning. And then he froze. He saw an arm sticking out from under part of the plane. He couldn’t make his feet move closer for a moment. _It could be Oliver._

              Barry finally got himself closer, pulling the metal up gingerly. He almost cried with relief when he saw the unfamiliar face of a League member.

              Guilt hit him pretty quickly—this was still a severely injured human being, after all. He pulled the man carefully out, checking for major wounds. The man was bleeding profusely from his lower leg. Barry quickly wrapped a cloth around the man’s leg before running him out of the wreckage, laying him down on a section of grass.

              Barry ran back into the plane. Still no Oliver.

              He heard a moan of pain from the front of the plane, and found the pilot mostly passed out and covered in blood.

 _These people are the enemy,_ Barry thought to himself as he carried the pilot to where he’d left the other injured man. Barry was almost amused at himself—these people had come to destroy his city, and he was trying to save their lives.

              He quickly bandaged up the places that were bleeding more heavily before running both men to the nearest hospital. He wasn’t sure what they’d think when they woke up, but Barry wasn’t about to let anyone die. That’s not what the heroes did, not when they had a choice.

              Barry stared at the plane when he got back. He took a deep breath. _Just one more time,_ he told himself. He ran through the wreckage, scanning every inch of the place, almost burning himself several times. But Oliver was nowhere to be found.

              He went back to Laurel who was standing with her arms crossed, the two League members she’d been fighting knocked out on the ground.

              “Nice of you to join us,” she said smoothly.

              “You’ve certainly come a long way, Black Canary,” Barry said, impressed.

              Laurel dropped the cool demeanor and grinned, straightening up. “Thanks, Flash.”

              “We need to find Ra’s and the rest of the League.” Barry looked towards where Ra’s had disappeared. “And Oliver.”

              “Nyssa gave me a few locations where they would go,” Laurel replied. “Let’s check.”

\---

              It was the third warehouse on the edge of town that they went to, and they immediately sent the address to everyone else. Luckily, with Barry’s speed, they didn’t lose any time. They ended up on the roof, looking down through a skylight. Ra’s was there, about ten League members with him. Oliver was there, too.

              “What do we even do?” Barry said, keeping his voice low. His eyes were stuck on Oliver.

              Laurel hesitated. “I don’t know. I think we just… Stall them until Nyssa gets here?”

              Barry stifled a laugh. “Are you kidding? Up against the League of Assassins, and we don’t even have a plan?”

              “Sure we do,” Laurel said with a smile. “The plan is to get them the hell out of our city.”

              Barry shook his head at her, sighing. “You make a great vigilante, you know that?”

              Laurel didn’t reply. She glanced down into the warehouse, then at her watch. She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, thinking hard. Their backup was coming. Lyla and Diggle were coming with some members of Argus. Malcolm Merlyn was coming. Nyssa was on her way. She knew that she and Barry couldn’t stall the League for long—they’d die before they managed to get anything done.

              “Here’s what I’ve got—Dig and Lyla should be here any minute. The second they get here, we ambush the League, all at once. You use your speed to get Oliver out of there before anyone knows what’s happening. Chain him up in the foundry or something—we can’t afford to have him out here.”

              Barry looked back down into the building. “You want me to kidnap Oliver? And then what?”

              Laurel glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “And then stay there. If Oliver is brainwashed, he’s dangerous. You’re going to have to keep him contained and out of the way.”

              “You don’t want me here to help with the League?” Barry asked.

              Laurel sighed and turned to him. “We don’t want Oliver to get hurt, but we can’t let him hurt anyone either. We’ll have it covered here. And if we need you, I’ll call you.” She put a hand on his arm, a warm, sympathetic glint in her eye. “And honestly, Barry, are you going to be able to focus? Bar, I love you, but when you’re distracted, you get hurt. Running away from a punch only works if you see it coming.”

              Barry inhaled sharply. “Ouch,” he said with a small smile. “But I can’t exactly argue.”

              Laurel brightened. “See? Now we have a plan.”

              Right on time, too, because that’s when the cavalry arrived. The Argus van pulled up outside, Malcolm Merlyn parking a motorcycle beside it.

              “Okay, Barry and I are coming down through the skylight,” Laurel said into the comms. “On three, we all ambush them. Surprise is all we have. Okay?”

              Barry braced himself. Laurel counted.

              They crashed through the skylight, coming down on a wire. Laurel immediately let out her sonic cry, temporarily distracting the League as Diggle and Lyla led everyone else in through the doors. Barry’s eyes connected with Oliver’s and his chest hurt for a moment.

              And then he ran. As fast as he could, grabbing Oliver before anyone could understand what was happening. The wind stung his face and his heart pounded. He hoped the rest of the team could handle Ra’s and the League. But he knew he was where he needed to be.

              They got to the foundry and Barry locked Oliver in the cage he’d put Nyssa in, handcuffing him. He breathed heavily for a moment, looking at Oliver’s startled and confused face. Barry clenched his jaw. He still looked like Barry's Oliver.

              “Release me,” Oliver said harshly, turning towards Barry. “Or I’ll find my own way out.”

              “Oliver-” Barry started.

              “Oliver Queen is dead,” Oliver interrupted.

              Barry sat on the floor by the cage, leaning against the side of one of the desks. He just felt so tired. He looked up at Oliver, still standing in a soldier’s stance. He looked so stiff, so cold. Barry didn’t know what to do. “Ollie, you’re not dead,” Barry said. “Just missing.”

              “Ra’s al Ghul will not let you get away with this,” Oliver said. He paced, using the movement to cover his hands as he pulled a needle out of his jacket to pick the handcuff locks.

              “I’m sure he won’t,” Barry replied flatly, drained of energy. He shut his eyes for a moment, taking a breath. He found himself wishing he was with Laurel and Diggle instead of here. “Ollie, I-”

              “Don’t call me that,” Oliver snapped. His heart began to pound. He knew that responding to any version of the name Oliver was wrong. He knew that something bad would happen. He knew that Oliver Queen was only a memory, and that bringing him back would have dire consequences. He _knew_ these things.

              Barry winced a little at Oliver’s tone. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. He paused, running his tongue over his teeth. “Don’t you recognize this place?”

              Oliver frowned, looking around the foundry. He knew this place. He knew it in a distant way, the way you remember a dream. He understood, logically, that this was where the Starling City vigilantes worked from. He understood, logically, that he had been one of them. In that previous dream life. The one that it hurt to think about. 

              “I could give you a hint,” Barry offered.

              Oliver turned his head sharply. “I’m not interested.”

              “Ollie-”

              “I said not to call me that.”

              Barry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “What did they _do_ to you?” he murmured, mostly to himself.

              “They trained me.”

              “They _broke_ you.”

              “Stop it.”

              Barry studied Oliver’s face for a moment. He noticed the fear in the cracks in Oliver’s façade. It made sense. Fear was a powerful way to control someone. “It’s okay, Oliver,” Barry said gently. “You’re safe here. You know that, right?”

              “Don’t insult me,” Oliver replied coldly.

              “Please, Ollie,” Barry said, standing up and taking a step towards the cage. He stopped cold in his tracks when Oliver flinched at the movement. It felt like all the air left his lungs. He’d never seen Oliver react quite like that. To anything, let alone to him. “Oliver, I…”

              “That’s not my name,” Oliver said, his voice barely audible. He was refusing to make eye contact.

              “I’m sorry,” Barry replied, taking a step back. “I… I’m sorry.”

              Oliver straightened his spine again, lifting his head and pushing his shoulders back. His face went blank again. Barry watched the composure and the cold exterior return, his heart hurting.

              Then the handcuffs fell to the floor, the sound echoing.

              Barry ran forward, not quite thinking clearly. He hadn’t quite thought of a plan to get the handcuffs back on, but he didn’t have time to figure anything out. When he got to the cage, Oliver had lunged forward, grabbing the front of his shirt and holding a knife to his throat.

              It all happened so suddenly that Barry didn’t have time to speed away. He absently thought about what Laurel had said, about how speed only helps if you can see the attack coming. It would’ve been more amusing if there wasn’t a knife at his throat.

              Everything seemed to freeze for several moments, Barry and Oliver locking eyes.

              “Open the door,” Oliver ordered, his voice getting deeper. Barry heard the authority in his tone that Oliver always used at the Arrow.

              “You don’t want to do this,” Barry replied softly, keeping very still.

              This close, Oliver could see the flecks of color in Barry’s eyes, the way his eyelashes curled. He could smell the hint of pine in Barry’s shampoo. He felt dizzy for a moment, struggling to keep the blade steady. “Open the door,” Oliver repeated, gritting his teeth.

              “You don’t want to hurt me,” Barry said. He studied Oliver’s eyes, not sure how much he believed his own words. “You can’t be that far gone, Ollie.”

              “Oliver Queen is alive only in the past. He is forgotten,” Oliver said. The words came easy to him, the mantra that was repeated to him, that he repeated. The sentence was always on his tongue.

              “That’s not true,” Barry replied. “The League brainwashed you, Ollie. You had a life here. You still do.”

              “You don’t know me.”

              “Yes, I do.”

              Oliver clenched his jaw. His skin was crawling. He knew that it would be wrong for him to acknowledge his past life here. He was supposed to have abandoned that. The League had taken it from him, and he was never going to get it back. He couldn’t try. He couldn’t think about it.

              He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a breath. He pushed any semblance of memory or nostalgia away. He locked eyes with Barry again. “Open the door,” he said, his voice icy.

              The wounded look in Barry’s eyes almost threw Oliver off. He managed to keep it together.

              “I can’t,” Barry replied, his voice breaking. “I can’t let you hurt anyone. Or get hurt.”

              Oliver pressed the knife harder against Barry’s throat, holding it tight in his fist. A flicker of fear passed through Barry’s eyes, but he looked more sad than anything else. Oliver wasn’t sure why that affected him.

              A long, tense moment passed before Oliver shoved Barry back and put the knife away. He wasn’t even aware that he’d been bluffing. “Either I’ll find my own way out or the League will retrieve me,” Oliver said smoothly. “You can not keep me here for long.”

              Barry rubbed his neck where the knife had been. He let himself collapse back to the floor, leaning against the desk against. His heart was pounding. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to steady himself.

              Oliver’s gaze caught on Barry, hearing his shaky breath and seeing his trembling lower lip. Oliver second guessed himself for a moment—he got caught on a memory, a memory from _before._

              He tried to push it away, shake it off. Those memories are dangerous to have. He can’t look back at them. The League taught him that, explicitly clearly. He _knew._ But the image was persistent. He had to squeeze his eyes shut, remember the chains around his wrists in the cell, imagine Ra’s al Ghul’s voice saying—

_Oliver Queen is alive only in the past. He is forgotten._

              And then the image came back. It was Barry’s face, tears caught in his eyelashes. Oliver pushed it away before the memory went further. It didn’t matter. That life was gone. The League of Assassins would never let him leave.

 _Not that I would want to,_ Oliver thought to himself hurriedly, irrationally feeling like Ra’s could read his mind. Was that really even out of the realm of possibility?

              Barry managed to get control over himself, though he could still feel the ghost of the knife on his throat. “You didn’t do it,” he said quietly, his eyes still closed. “You could’ve cut me. You didn’t.”

              “Killing you would accomplish nothing,” Oliver said, keeping his voice steady and cold. This was the League’s rule—needlessly killing is unnecessary and a waste of time.

              “That’s not true,” Barry replied, opening his eyes to look at Oliver. He cocked his head a little to the side. “Killing me would've helped you escape.”

              “I can easily find a way out myself,” Oliver replied sharply.

              “But killing me would’ve been more efficient,” Barry countered.

              “Not necessarily,” Oliver said. “I don’t know whether you have the key on your person.”

              Barry pulled keys out of his pocket, jingling them lightly. “You know what I think? I think you didn’t want to hurt me.”

              Oliver glared, tensing. Barry didn’t break eye contact under his stare.

              “You didn’t hurt me before either,” Barry continued. “You were all ready to. You were all prepared to stab me, and you stopped. Why?”

              “Killing you would accomplish nothing,” Oliver repeated automatically.

              “That’s not it. And I think you know that.” Barry got up off the floor, sitting on the desk instead. He leaned forward, studying Oliver’s face. “So what’s the real reason you can’t kill me?”

              Oliver clenched his jaw. “You’ve given me a reason to. Why don’t you come over here to test your theory?”

              Barry licked his lips, considering it. Was he really ready to risk his life on this chance? He pictured walking over, standing by the bars. He pictured Oliver putting the knife back to his throat, hand shaking. He pictured two outcomes—Oliver breaks, drops the knife, shaken and confused after the abuse the League put him through. Or Oliver cuts his throat, and Barry dies, his blood all over Oliver’s hands, and Oliver has to live with that memory forever.

              Barry shook his head. “I’m not going to put you through that,” he said.

              Oliver straightened up again, feeling a little more secure. “Sounds like you don’t have much faith in your theory,” he said, snark creeping into his tone.

              Barry softened, gazing at Oliver with a sad, gentle smile. “I have faith in _you,_ Ollie.”

              There was something in Barry’s tone, something Oliver couldn’t place, that made Oliver’s shoulders slump forward again. “That’s not my name,” he said quietly, the fight gone from his voice. He lowered himself to the floor, leaning back against the bars.

              “Okay,” Barry said kindly.

              Oliver just looked away, keeping his eyes locked on the other side of the room. Everything would be fine if he just didn’t look at Barry. That was the problem, he told himself.

\---

              Oliver and Barry sat in silence in the foundry for a long time, neither of them able to tell exactly how long. Oliver kept his gaze fixed on the opposite wall. Barry kept his eyes fixed on Oliver.

              Barry jumped up when he heard the sounds of people rushing into the foundry.

              “I’m _fine,_ ” Barry heard Laurel’s voice say.

              Laurel walked into the foundry, clutching her side. Nyssa kept a hand steadily on Laurel’s arm, her worried gaze locked onto Laurel’s face.

              Nyssa turned when they reached the desk. “She has been stabbed,” she told Barry, her voice tense.

              “Barely,” Laurel added in dismissively. Nyssa shot her a glare before turning back to Barry.

              “You have medical knowledge, correct?” Nyssa asked.

              Barry got up, walking over to them. “I’m not a doctor, but yeah, I have some. We might need to bring her to a hospital.”

              “That’s completely unnecessary,” Laurel said sharply as they walked over to the medical area. “If I go to the hospital with a stab wound, it’ll be suspicious. Can’t risk it.”

              Barry rolled his eyes. “Well, let’s see the wound and decide then.”

              Laurel pulled up her shirt, revealing a relatively shallow cut in her side, like the sword had only grazed her. “See? It’s nothing.”

              “It’s _not_ nothing,” Nyssa insisted.

              Barry raised an eyebrow at Laurel, who was looking almost amused at Nyssa’s concern. “I think all this needs is some disinfectant and maybe a couple stitches. We don’t need to go anywhere, I can do this. Shouldn’t take too long.”

              “And you’re sure?” Nyssa asked.

              Barry looked at her questioningly as he gathered the supplies. “Weren’t you in the League of Assassins?” he said.

              Nyssa stared at him blankly for a moment before glancing back to Laurel’s cut. “I am sorry, it’s just… It’s fine. I have to regain control of myself. I’m sorry.” She began to pace, seeming uncharacteristically stressed.

              Barry watched her for a moment before going back to Laurel. “So are you going to fill me in on what happened?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light.

              Nyssa stopped pacing. “Perhaps… Perhaps I should go gather some food. I will return.” She turned and walked briskly out of the room.

              Laurel watched her go, her eyes soft and thoughtful.

              “What happened?” Barry asked, his voice lowered and serious.

              Laurel looked back at him and smiled. “Oh, we won. They didn’t get any further than that warehouse.”

              “So… what happened?” Barry repeated, looking back to where Nyssa had left. He risked a glance back to Oliver, too, but he hadn’t moved an inch.

              “It was pretty chaotic for a while after you left,” she started, wincing a little as Barry cleaned the wound. “The League got the worst of it, but a couple Argus agents are dead. Lyla is in the hospital—Diggle is with her. I think one of the League members dislocated her shoulder. We didn’t have to wait too long before Nyssa got there with Maseo and the others.” She paused, tilting her head thoughtfully.

              “And?” Barry prompted.

              “The cut… Ra’s almost stabbed me through the stomach. Nyssa pulled me away at the last minute. She saved me.” Laurel chewed her lip for a moment. “And then she… Like, in the same movement, she pulled me out of the way and stabbed her father in the heart. It all happened so fast, I don’t even think she really meant to do it. Not at that moment, anyway.”

              Barry just stared, speechless, for several seconds. “Then what?”

              “Then he kind of… Staggered forward. Like he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.” Laurel stopped again, staring into the distance. “And Nyssa just… Slit his throat and kicked him to the ground. It was over in a matter of seconds.”

              Barry looked down at his hands. Being responsible for the death of your father, even if your father was someone like Ra’s al Ghul… He couldn’t imagine what that could do to someone. He looked back at Oliver again, who’d looked up, eyes wide, clearly having heard the news. He seemed frozen.

 _I’ll just let him process,_ Barry thought to himself. Though at least partially, he was just avoiding another confrontation. Talking to Oliver had drained him a little.

              He turned back to Laurel. “So what’s Nyssa going to do? Is she sticking around?”

              Laurel shook her head. “I don’t think so. She reclaimed her place in the League. I think she’s going back to Nanda Parbat after this is over. To replace her father.”

              “I guess I can see that,” Barry said with a sigh, finishing up with mending Laurel’s cut.

              Laurel got up off the table, looking back to where Oliver was sitting, locked up. “How’s he doing?” she asked Barry softly.

              Barry shook his head. “It’s hard to say.”

              Laurel looked like she was about to say something more when Felicity and Ray came in.

              “So is it time to celebrate?” Felicity said, practically skipping to the computers. “I was thinking Big Belly Burger.”

              Laurel smiled. “Nyssa went to go get food.”

              “Nyssa! We better thank her,” Felicity replied. “And congratulate her.”

              “Yeah, she did so well that I did all that work for nothing,” Ray said, grinning good humoredly. He sat down on a chair next to Felicity. “I was all ready to stop the virus, and it never even made it to the city.”

              Laurel rolled her eyes. “Yeah, you can complain to Nyssa for taking away your hero moment when she gets back.”

              “I don’t think he’ll have a chance between all the gratitude we have to show her,” Felicity interjected, hitting Ray on the arm.

              “Hey, I was kidding!” he said with a laugh.

              “All in all, this went _surprisingly_ well,” Felicity said. “I mean, don’t we usually, like, just barely win these things? Isn’t it usually _way_ harder? This crisis was taken care of in record time.”

              Laurel shrugged. “Hey, we have to get lucky sometimes.”

              “Does Nyssa have a phone?” Felicity asked suddenly.

              Laurel raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I gave her one when she was staying here.”

              “Call her! We should meet her at Big Belly Burger,” Felicity said, bubbly with excitement. “And then we can go get pie.”

              “Ooh, I want pie,” Ray said, perking up with an earnest grin.

              Laurel laughed a little. “Sure, we could do that. Diggle and Lyla shouldn’t be at the hospital too much longer, we can have them meet us there.”

              “I guess the only people who’ll be missing are Roy and Thea, then,” Felicity said. She turned. “Barry, you’re coming, right?”

              Barry looked over at Oliver, who still hadn’t moved. “No, I can’t,” he said softly.

              “What? No, you have to! Come on-” Felicity stopped when Ray nudged her and gestured to Oliver. “Oh, right. Um. Well. Good luck with that… Uh, let us know if you need anything.”

              Felicity and Ray hurried out about as quickly and noisily as they came in. Laurel leaned toward Barry with a sincere concerned look. “You gonna be okay?”

              Barry nodded. “I’ll be fine, go. Spend some time with your girlfriend before she has to leave,” he said, adding in a teasing smile.

              Laurel shot him a glare. “Well, now you’re uninvited to the celebration anyway,” she huffed jokingly before heading out.

              And just as quickly, the foundry was quiet and empty again, seeming way too big and cold. Barry took a long breath. They’d been so focused on this, that he’d barely thought of the long term consequences. He looked at Oliver, frozen on the floor, looking confused and afraid. Some of the real work had only just started, Barry realized. 


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the revision of the end of Arrow season 3. (Canon? What canon?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what I'm thinking is that this story will end in a few chapters-- with the very real possibility of a sequel. It'll make more sense as this story continues winding down, but let me know what you think anyway. I've got pretty concrete plans for this potential sequel.   
> Also, quick side note, I'm an English major, not a psychologist. I'm doing my best with the psychology things, but I do apologize if I get anything wrong. Please let me know if you notice anything.

              Barry hadn’t said anything since sitting back down across from the cage. It had been maybe an hour, the Arrow Cave completely quiet since the others had left. Barry was leaning back against the desk, his eyes closed, breathing softly.

              Oliver was keeping his eyes fixed on the floor in front of him. He’d been having trouble thinking since he heard what they’d said. Having trouble breathing. He was frozen, staring, completely uncertain about what would happen next.

              The League wasn’t supposed to abandon him. They weren’t supposed to let him go. He was supposed to spend the rest of his life with the League, controlled by them. He had no vision for what happened now that the future that had been burned into his mind was gone, as fast as it had been instilled in him.

              He thought of his first few days in Nanda Parbat, how he’d resisted. Or tried to, anyway. He was so used to torture that he thought he’d have no problem keeping himself. But he was so tired of trying. So tired of fighting. He was supposed to be dead a thousand times over. What more could he be expected to do? How much longer was he expected to keep fighting?

              He thought of the drugs that the League had given him. The hallucinogens, the sedatives, the psychostimulants. He’d been in a haze. He thought of how they’d deprived him of sleep, deprived him of warmth. He thought of that cold, damp room that they’d chained him in—he could still smell the mold and the dust in that cell. Like it was stuck in his mind.

              He had known what they were doing. Of course he had. What else would they do, but try to indoctrinate him? It was an obvious move. But, God, what was he supposed to _do_ about it? Knowing what was happening didn’t give him any power to stop it. All it gave him was a resigned understanding that he’d lost everything.

              But hey, wasn’t he finally going to be free, anyway, since this was essentially going to be his death?

              Apparently not. Oliver saw no freedom in his future. He’d moved from one jail cell to the next to the next to the next. He absently thought of confessing to the crimes he’d known Oliver Queen had committed, get it over with and spend the rest of his life in an actual prison. At least there he’d consistently get food.

              He _was_ Oliver Queen, he tried to remind himself, noticing his thoughts in the third person. He knew this, logically. He was supposed to have become Al Sah-him—and he had, more or less. For survival, he had lost his strength of will, given up his identity. Allowed Ra’s to control him.

              But they’d said that Ra’s was dead. So what now?

_They were lying,_ a voice said to Oliver. _Ra’s will never die. He will always be there, following you. If you try to return to your old life, he’ll know. He killed you once—he can do it again. Easily. He’ll kill the people he taught you not to care about. He’ll destroy everything you once loved._

              Oliver squeezed his eyes shut. How was he supposed to know what was true? Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he had some understanding that Ra’s had lied to him, that Ra’s had put false feelings and ideas into his mind through the conditioning.

              It was just so much simpler to let Ra’s control him.

              So much easier.

              This chaos in his mind, this mess of choices he could make laid out in front of him, it was overwhelming. It was distressing. He didn’t know what to do. How could he, without being told? How could he decide after his autonomy had been pulled away? He never expected to get it back.

_You still have no proof that it is back. Ra’s is on his way now. Put up the mask again. You can’t let him see you doubt. You know what happens when you doubt. You don’t want that, do you?_

              Oliver tried to push away the thought, but it was persistent. It was looming over him, this fear that if he let his guard down, Ra’s would immediately know. He’d be taken back to Nanda Parbat. And any progress he’d made there in the League would be stripped. He’d go back to square one. Back to that cell. He’d never sleep again.

              The League didn’t make idle threats.

              He opened his eyes hesitantly, looking over at Barry. He knew that he used to know Barry. Ra’s had put him through hallucinations where Barry tried to kill him, where he was forced to kill Barry first, where Barry was already dead or hurt or had lost his mind. But that day… Barry barely touched him. Barely tried to hurt him at all.

              Oliver wasn’t stupid. He could tell the difference between a hallucination and reality. But it didn’t make the memories feel any less _real._ It didn’t make the feelings associated with them any less real. He still went through that—he felt every moment of it.

              “Is it true?” he asked quietly, his voice small.

              Barry’s eyes snapped open. “Is what true?”

              “About Ra’s. Is he dead?” Oliver hated the tremble that entered his voice. He hated the vulnerability he felt. He felt the anger at himself, at this weakness, built inside him, but the fear was so much stronger. The fear that Ra’s was alive. And the fear that he was not.

              “Yeah,” Barry said gently, leaning forward. He studied Oliver’s face for a moment, not sure what signs he was looking for. “Nyssa killed him. It’s over.”

              “How can you be sure?” Oliver asked.

              Barry tilted his head. “I trust Laurel’s word.”

              “How much is that worth?” Oliver muttered to himself, a little irritated. He couldn’t base his knowledge on whether Ra’s would be coming for him on _trust._

              Barry, amazingly, laughed a little. “It’s worth a lot, Ollie. You trusted Laurel, too.”

              Oliver shot a glare, bristling. “Things change.”

              “Obviously,” Barry replied. He smiled. “But, hey, look at that. Progress. You let me call you Ollie.”

              Oliver tensed again. He clenched his teeth. He’d let something slip. He couldn’t have that. “Well, you showed no signs of listening,” Oliver said coldly, straightening up. At least he’d found his mask again. “It seemed pointless to remind you.”

              “Hey, don’t worry,” Barry said, putting his hands up and grinning. “I won’t tell anyone.”

_Like that would stop Ra’s from finding out._

              Oliver reminded himself—if they were telling the truth, if Ra’s really was dead, then he wouldn’t have to worry about it. If Ra’s was dead, Oliver wouldn’t be brought back to Nanda Parbat.

              He briefly entertained the idea of becoming Oliver Queen again. The idea, just by itself, terrified him. He barely even knew why.

              “So what now?” Oliver said softly.

              Barry sat closer, crossing his legs and leaning forward. “That’s up to you.”

              Oliver fixed an icy gaze on Barry. “How is it up to me? I’m the one in a cage.”

              Barry slid forward, until he was right outside the bars. He rested a hand on one of them, looking at Oliver with some kind of fondness that made Oliver’s heart hurt and his skin crawl. “You don’t have to be, Ollie,” Barry replied gently. “I don’t want you to be in there either.”

              Oliver looked away. “Then let me out. Let me go.”

              Barry sighed, pulling his hand back to his chest. “I think you know that I can’t do that. You were brainwashed by the League, abused, drugged, who knows what else. I need to know that you won’t be a danger to others or yourself. I need you to be okay.”

              “I’m fine,” Oliver replied automatically.

              “I’d be more worried if that were true,” Barry said.

              “It’s not your concern.”

              “It actually is.”

              Oliver took a deep breath. “What do you want from me?”

              “All I want is for you to be okay, Ollie.” Barry ran his fingers through his hair.

_And all I want is to fade out of existence, for all this to be over._ “I don’t know what to tell you,” Oliver replied.

              Barry’s chest tightened. He watched Oliver’s face, closely studying the way he blinked slowly, the way his lip twitched slightly. He told himself that Oliver was going to be okay. Oliver _always_ turned out okay in the end. He came home with a storybook miracle, a deus ex machina bringing him back. And he was always okay.

              But that wasn’t really true, was it? He came back from Lian Yu, damaged and covered in scars, with a list and an agenda and a willingness to kill. And he hadn’t really been okay since. How many times had Barry seen him hide his emotions, push them away like they don’t matter? How many times had Barry seen him be reckless—not in the overconfident way that Barry is sometimes, but more in a death-wish kind of way? Like he doesn't have much of a stake in whether he lives or dies?

              How many times had Barry been there, in _that_ moment, seeing Oliver in pain and completely at a loss for how to help?

              Barry took a deep breath and put on a smile. “Maybe you just need some connections to hold onto here. Something that you can remember safely. Why don’t I get us some Big Belly Burger? You must be hungry.”

              Oliver glanced at him from the corner of his eye. Something safe. Nothing in Starling City was safe. Nothing from his old life was _safe._ “Knock yourself out,” he said coldly.

              Barry tried to brush off Oliver’s tone, not letting his plastered-on smile falter. “Great! I’ll be right back,” he replied. He was back in a flash, of course, handing Oliver a to-go bag with a grin.

              Oliver stared at him for a moment, eyebrow raised. He finally reached out and took the bag that Barry was offering. Barry almost noticeably reacted at the gesture, brightening.

              “I didn’t have this much back in Central City,” Barry said casually, taking a bite of his burger. “I think it was mostly you who got me to start eating it.”

              Oliver clenched his jaw. “I know what you’re doing. Stop it.”

              “Of course you know what I’m doing,” Barry replied. “You’re not stupid.” He sighed, leaning back. “But listen, Ollie, if you can tell what I’m doing, then you can tell that I’m doing it because I care about you. Right?”

              “And just why is that supposed to matter?” Oliver replied, keeping his tone even. He took a bite of the burger, and something about the taste brought a feeling of warmth back to him.

              “Oliver, I know you’ve been through a lot,” Barry said, his tone getting more serious. “And all I’m doing here is trying to help. You don’t deserve everything that has happened to you. I don’t know if you know that.”

              Something about what Barry said struck a chord, and Oliver held his breath for a few seconds so that Barry wouldn’t hear it shake.

              Oliver put the burger down. He didn’t want to eat any more. He couldn’t take it. He felt like he was falling and he didn’t know what he was supposed to do anymore.

              Become Oliver Queen again, maybe. Try to escape and return to the League. Run back to Lian Yu, where everything was terrible and harsh but at least life made sense to him there. Go on a boat trip and actually drown this time.

              So many options, but no choices. Oliver wanted to disappear.

              Barry leaned forward, putting his own burger down. Oliver almost looked sick. “Ollie? Are you okay?”

              Oliver didn’t answer. _Ollie. That's not your name._ He took a quiet breath, gathering himself again, and turned to Barry. “Shouldn’t you know the answer to that?” Oliver replied, his voice cold.

              Barry sighed. He tried to smile. Everything was going to take some time. He knew that. “It’s been a long day. Why don’t you get some sleep?”

              Oliver was about to say something but he didn’t have the chance. Barry sped around, lighting crackling through the air, and suddenly there was a sleeping pad and some blankets and pillows in the cell. Oliver stared at them for a second, before noticing that Barry had his own right outside the bars.

              “You’re staying?” Oliver asked hesitantly.

              Barry smiled, warm and genuine. “Always,” he replied.

              That night, Oliver was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, as he listened to Barry’s breathing. It took him several hours to get to sleep after Barry.

\---

              Laurel found Nyssa kneeling by Sara’s grave. During all of the fanfare and celebration for their victory, Nyssa had taken off, with no explanation other than she had somewhere to go.

              So here she was, her knees in the dew-covered grass, staring into the tombstone of her first real love. The tombstone with the dates that erased her from her first love’s life. Nyssa almost reached out to touch the carving of Sara’s name but she stopped herself. This was not the Sara she knew. This was not the name she knew. There was no record of the Canary. No proof of Nyssa’s beloved.

              Except, that is, the sister who had taken up the mantle and made it her own.

              So here Laurel was, hanging back as she looked at the woman who loved her sister, watched the intimate moment where Nyssa decided not to touch the stone. She felt a little intrusive, like she was seeing something she wasn’t supposed to. This was Nyssa’s private moment. This was where Nyssa chose to go after killing her father, the man who raised her, the man who abused her, the man who made her who she was.

              But Laurel found she couldn’t walk away. This was Nyssa, after all. This was her friend, her friend who clearly needed someone but would never ask. So she came to the person who she could never ask again. Laurel’s heart ached for her. Nyssa, who was confident and strong and frightening as a League member, but soft and gentle and awkward as a friend.

              Laurel loved her. And Nyssa needed someone. It was a simple as that.

              Nyssa could sense the presence behind her. For a moment, she almost felt like it might be Sara, miraculously back from the dead. She knew this was impossible, but it didn’t stop the quick flicker of hope and joy from coming anyway.

              “Laurel,” she said, her voice quiet and flat. She didn’t turn around. “I would like to be alone, if you do not mind.”

              Laurel almost left, but she stopped herself. She felt so wholly inadequate for a moment. Because she wasn’t Sara. And she never would be. “I’m not sure I believe that,” Laurel said gently.

              Nyssa didn’t reply. She didn’t have it in her to argue. And she knew that Laurel was right anyway. She didn’t want to be alone, she just didn’t want to admit that.

              “It’s okay, you know,” Laurel said, taking a few tentative steps forward. “To miss him. Or to feel guilty. Or to feel whatever you’re feeling.”

              “It needed to be done,” Nyssa replied.

              “But he was still your father,” Laurel said simply.

              Nyssa clenched her jaw, keeping her expression opaque for as long as she could. She broke, looking down at the grass that covered Sara’s form. “What will I do now?” she asked quietly, not sure if she was asking Sara or Laurel.

              “Whatever you want,” Laurel replied. She knelt beside Nyssa, running a thumb over the top of her sister’s tombstone. “You can return to the League. Take up your place as leader.” She paused. “Or you can stay here,” she said softly. She tried to suppress the guilt she felt at what she was getting so close to admitting, here by her sister’s grave. She so badly wanted Nyssa to stay.

              Nyssa didn’t answer. Just found herself studying Laurel’s face, as Laurel avoided eye contact by keeping her eyes glued to Sara’s name. Nyssa caught a glimpse of the shame in Laurel’s face, along with the note of hope and sadness and affection. It was such a swirl of emotion that Nyssa wasn’t quite sure what to do.

              So she took Laurel’s hand.

              Laurel froze for a moment before gently squeezing Nyssa’s hand in return.

\---

              Barry woke up, aching and groggy, on the cold floor of the foundry. The blankets hadn’t exactly been enough for the cold, dry air of the foundry, and Barry groaned as he leaned up, his shoulders and neck stiff.

              He looked to see Oliver already awake, his sleeping pad pushed to a corner with the blankets immaculately folded and the pillows stacked on top. Oliver was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the cell, straight posture with his eyes closed, like he was meditating.

              Barry rested his weight on his elbow, watching Oliver for a few moments. His breathing was steady, his body perfectly still. Barry barely wanted to move, for fear that it might break the calm. But he supposed this behavior was a trained routine from the League.

              He got up, slowly, but making sure to make enough noise to announce his presence. Oliver didn’t move, or really show a single sign that he was aware of Barry.

              Barry sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. Then he sped out of the room, back to the apartment. He stared at the empty cold kitchen for a few moments, taking a breath.

              He sped around the kitchen, making pancakes as fast as he could, remembering the breakfasts that Oliver had made for him and that he’d made for Oliver. _Maybe,_ he told himself. _Maybe Oliver will remember, too._

              He brought the pancakes back, setting a plate down for Oliver in the cell and for him outside of it.

              Oliver still didn’t move.

              Barry watched him for a moment, seeing the steady way his chest rose and fell. He could almost feel Oliver’s chest against him, those broad shoulders pressed into his. He tried to stifle those feelings. This wasn’t the time to selfishly think of what he kept missing. Oliver needed something else from him.

              “I brought you food,” Barry said gently, sitting down by the bars.

              “I am aware,” Oliver replied flatly.

              Barry pressed his lips together. He had no idea what he was doing. This was so beyond what he understood, what he could do. He didn’t know how to help Oliver. How could he know?

              Oliver kept his hands firmly on his knees, his eyes tightly closed. This is what happened in Nanda Parbat with the League—

              Sometimes, Oliver would dream of home. He’d dream of Barry, or Thea, or his mother. He’d dream of his hypothetical dog, of the apartment he and Barry shared. Of the foundry, with Diggle and Felicity and his mask. Of Laurel and Sara and Tommy and the time he spent growing up with them.

              He’d dream of his life as Oliver Queen.

              Or worse, the drugs that Ra’s ceremoniously gave him—like covering them with ritual and tradition would make him not see them for what they were—could cause him to hallucinate these things. More often than not, those hallucinations would turn violent and frightening the second he got comfortable in them.

              There was one hallucination—or nightmare, he could barely tell the difference between false realities there—that he remembered now. He let himself wallow in the memory, as he was supposed to when these dreams or hallucinations would return, lest he be lulled into believing he was safe within them.

              _He woke up in the cold cell, shirtless and chained to the floor. The handcuffs cut into his wrists, but he could barely feel it anymore. It ached in a dull, sad way more than anything else. He pulled himself to his feet, ignoring how tired he felt. It was always better to force himself awake than to wait for someone else to do it._

_If he let himself doze, he could have ice water thrown at him, or he could be beaten, or he could be kept from sleep for much longer afterwards. The punishment made self-discipline so much more desirable._

_But this time, this time he saw something. He saw Barry, kneeling by him, eyes wide, scared and confused. Barry was chained, too, shirtless, with wide, screaming cuts across his chest._

_“Ollie,” he said softly, his voice almost a whimper. “Ollie, I’m sorr—”_

_“No, don’t,” Oliver replied, quickly kneeling beside him. “Don’t—don’t apologize.” He gently took Barry’s hands in his, looking at the beginnings of red marks on Barry’s wrists. He pulled Barry’s hands to his chest, studying his eyes. It all felt so vivid. It didn’t even occur to Oliver that it might not be real._

_“I—I came to save you, but now… Now…” Barry’s voice broke a little. “I’m so sorry, Ollie. I never meant for any of this to happen.”_

_“No, no,” Oliver murmured to him. “It’s okay. None of this is your fault.”_

_Barry shook his head. “I never should’ve let you go alone.”_

_Oliver smiled. “You couldn’t have stopped me.”_

_“I could’ve gone with you,” Barry almost whispered._

_Oliver clenched his jaw. His gaze shifted from his hands to Barry’s, from the locked door to the barred window. He kept a hand on Barry’s as he looked around, studying each potential weakness in the prison._

_“There must be a way out,” he muttered to himself. “We can find a way out of here.”_

_“There’s no way out,” Barry said, his voice defeated. “We’re dead. We can’t escape.”_

_That’s what gave Oliver pause. The pessimism. The defeatist attitude. He froze. He stiffened. He looked back at Barry, and he saw what he didn’t before. A cold glint in Barry’s eyes. A harsh grin growing. His wounds fading just as quickly as they’d appeared, like they’d never been there to begin with._

_“You’re never getting out of here,” Barry said, his tone changing to a taunt. Then he laughed—loud, cold, hateful. “How does that feel, Oliver? Tell me how much it hurts.”_

_Oliver pulled away slowly, rocking back onto his heels. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He sat cross-legged, straightening his spine. This wasn’t real. It looked real. It sounded real. He focused on his breathing, like Ra’s had told him, pulling his emotions back within himself, hidden._

_Before he closed himself off once again, he took a moment to feel a deep, cleansing relief. Barry was still safe in Starling. No matter what happened to Oliver, what psychological torture he went through, they couldn’t take that away from him._

Oliver supposed this was what it was now. Instead of having him believe that Barry was in danger, they were having him believe that he himself was safe again. Well, he wasn’t going to fall for it. Not after all this time. It didn’t matter that he could smell the pancakes, that he could hear Barry’s voice.

              So what if it felt real? Oliver knew that the only real thing he had left was the League and Ra’s. They’d punish him again if he slipped back into those dreams, back into those hallucinations. They could see his fantasies. He couldn’t risk them knowing. He’d just be hurting himself again.

              “Oliver,” Barry said gently. “Come on, you have to eat.”

              Oliver clenched his jaw. “You’re not real,” he said matter-of-factly.

              Barry was pretty genuinely taken aback by that. He supposed it made sense, thinking about it, thinking about all Oliver must’ve gone through. “How can I prove to you that I am?” he asked.

              “Don’t bother,” Oliver replied.

              His voice was so cold, it broke Barry’s heart. “Oliver,” he said. “You know, you’re safe. You're safe now. You’re in Starling City. Ra’s is dead.”

              Oliver noticeably tensed. He remembered what happened the day before, all at once. Time and memory were funny things—Oliver barely noticed them anymore. What he noticed, what he understood, was when Ra’s came to him. Ra’s was never a hallucination. That’s how he could tell what was real. “You’re lying,” he replied, his voice harsh.

              “I’m not. I wouldn’t,” Barry said. “Ollie, I promise, I wouldn’t lie to you, especially not about this.”

              _It’s a lie. Ra’s can’t be dead. Don’t believe him. The second you start believing him, Ra’s will return. You will have failed him. You know what happens when you fail Ra’s._

              “Nyssa killed him,” Barry continued. “We were here when it happened. I brought you here to keep you out of the fight. We wanted to save you from the League sooner, but…”

              Oliver’s eyes snapped open. “Then why didn’t you?” he asked.

              His voice was calm, but the words felt like so much of an accusation that Barry flinched. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t know how. I didn’t know what to do.”

              Oliver narrowed his eyes, considering how real Barry sounded before catching himself. He pulled his feelings in. This was wishful thinking. _Not wishful,_ he added quickly, almost afraid that Ra’s would be able to catch that slip.

              “Ollie, I…” Barry started, but he trailed off. What could he say to express how sorry he was? How could he tell Oliver how much he hated himself for this?

              Two things happened slowly at that moment, two things that added up to a small step forward. Without fully realizing it, Oliver accepted being called Ollie, like that name made sense to him again. He connected the name back to himself, remembered that Ollie was who he was. And he noticed just how hungry he was.

              “Pancakes?” he said, looking down at the plate. He had only eaten a bite the day before. So maybe this wasn’t real, but he might as well test it by eating, right?

              Barry smiled, a little weakly. “Yeah, I made them. I hope they’re okay.”

              Oliver glanced over at Barry a little suspiciously, but he picked up the plate anyway.

              _Small steps_ , Barry told himself. He softened, feeling the affection in his chest. Things were going to be okay. Weren't they?

\---

              Sometimes, you prepare for something, stressed and afraid, trying desperately to think of all the ways it could go wrong. Even irrational and unlikely tragedies that could occur. Sometimes, disaster strikes, and Murphy’s Law in place, everything that can go wrong does. Sometimes your worst fears are realized. Sometimes you couldn’t have possibly thought of enough back up plans to stop it.

              Sometimes, you win, and it’s easier than you expected. For once, your plans go smoothly, everyone does their job, everyone shows up. Crisis averted. You stopped the disaster. So why don’t you feel like celebrating? After all this, it looks like it’s all going to be okay. Right? Everything should be okay now.

              But then the aftermath is worse. The clean-up, the recovery. The part you hadn’t gotten around to planning for, because you were too busy worrying about the disaster itself to wonder what you’d do after it was all over. And then what?

              What do you do then?

              You have to go back to your life. You have to go back to work. You have to rebuild a routine. Everything is back to normal—except that it isn’t. Just because the disaster didn’t happen doesn’t mean the echoes of its damage don’t resonate across your life.

              So what do you do?

              You take a few days off work—as many as you can justify, as many as they’ll let you. You sit in quiet, not sure taking those days off was even worth it. You half-heartedly try to do those things you used to do, and it feels empty. You feel lost. Everything is the same except for you. Your life doesn’t seem like it belongs to you anymore.

              And what do you _do?_

              Barry Allen slept on the floor of the foundry for a full week. Right outside Oliver’s cell. He called in sick to work—strep throat, he said. Something contagious that would last at least a little while. Team Arrow came in and out, still doing what they usually did.

              After all the work against the League, after all the fear about Ra’s, it was over.

              So Team Arrow got back to work on the smaller things, the ones that never ended. The robberies, the assaults, the drug trade. They went after the criminals they’d always gone after, from the gangsters to the white collar criminals. The ones that once they were caught were always replaced by someone new.

              Laurel asked Barry to cover for a few. Nothing that would take too long. He’d be in and out in ten minutes or less, bringing the criminal to the police station in handcuffs.

              Laurel only asked him when she needed to. Otherwise, everyone else had it covered.

              The team had changed, even in those few days.

              Diggle decided to pull back. He wasn’t quitting, he said, but he needed to be there for Lyla and Baby Sara.  He couldn’t be in the foundry every night. He’d come in emergencies, but his family was his first priority. He said that with a lingering look towards Oliver, a loaded look, full of anger and betrayal and sadness and pity. And then he was gone.

              Felicity and Ray came every other night. They spent half their time on Team Arrow, half their time at Ray’s company, working on new technology. Felicity wasn’t ready to quit completely, and Ray was excited to be involved in anything to help the city. His heroic streak was showing more and more every day.

              Roy had recommitted entirely. He was there every night, picking up all kinds of slack, completely invested in making sure what Oliver built wouldn’t die. He hadn’t spoken to Oliver since the first day. All he’d done was apologize and thank him, and Oliver hadn’t said a word. Roy pulled back, looking for a new way to repay Oliver. The Oliver he had known, at least.

              Thea followed Roy. After her training with Malcolm, she was more than ready for this life. She went out with Roy and Laurel frequently, spending the rest of her time either in her club upstairs, making sure it kept running, or sitting beside Barry talking to Oliver. She seemed to help draw Oliver back. Oliver was seeming more like himself around her. When Laurel called Barry out, Thea would stay with Oliver, talking to him about their childhood, bringing up the memories he’d been told to forget.

              Laurel took up the role as leader. It suited her. The city had already gotten fond of the Black Canary, and they had already been fond of Laurel Lance the ADA. She was helping the city in every area of her life, and she felt right at home. Thea was showing her what Malcolm had taught her, and she was taking lessons from Nyssa, too.

              Nyssa, who hadn’t left yet. The League members were getting a little restless waiting for her. They’d expected her to leave for Nanda Parbat immediately, but she didn’t. She stuck around the foundry with Laurel, mostly, helping out Team Arrow every once in a while. She said she would leave soon. She kept saying that.

              Barry was just glad they could handle it without him. He didn’t want to leave Oliver locked up, all alone. Especially not after everything that he had been through.

              But Oliver had a few moments where he lashed out, where it almost seemed like he was ready to go home to the apartment, but then he’d have some kind of panic attack. He’ll yell, or throw himself against the bars, or try to hurt Barry.

              It didn’t scare Barry when he did that. It just made him sad. What scared Barry were the moments when Oliver would get deadly quiet and cold, like he wasn’t even there anymore. Like there was nothing left of him to save. That’s what made Barry afraid.

              By the end of that week, Oliver was starting to get back to his normal self. Starting to. He was connecting to the memories he had of Starling City again. He was seeing those memories like he was a part of them, rather than just an observer. But he was still having nightmares, waking up confused, slipping into fear and panic and flashbacks.

              Barry wished more than anything that they could take him to therapy. _Anything._ But he didn’t know how to do that. This situation was not conducive to that kind of solution. What were they supposed to say? The truth?

              Sunday evening, Oliver seemed calmer. Quieter. They sat on the floor of the foundry, just the two of them, with Chinese take-out.

              Oliver put his food down, taking a breath. “When can I get out of here?”

              Barry followed Oliver’s lead, putting his food down, too. He cocked his head to the side, studying Oliver’s face. He seemed lucid enough. “To go where?” he asked gently.

              Oliver shot him an irritated glare. “To go _home,”_ Oliver replied curtly. “To our apartment.” He rattled off their address robotically.

              Barry smiled. “Okay, I know I sound a little patronizing, but you know that I have to ask.”

              Oliver sighed, leaning against the bars. He curled his hands around his wrists, rubbing the spot where he could still feel the echoes of the chains from Nanda Parbat. “I know,” he replied. “I just… I want to feel normal again.”

              “These things take time,” Barry replied. “Do you think you’re ready?”

              Oliver shrugged. “It’s hard to say. I don’t…” He sighed again, not quite wanting to admit this. “I don’t know that I’d want to leave the apartment,” he said slowly. “I think… I think I’d need to just stay inside for a while. Get used to it again.” Oliver tried not to choke on all his swallowed pride. But this was Barry he was talking to. It was just the two of them. He’d finally accepted the idea that he didn’t need to always keep up an air of strength around Barry. He was _allowed_ to be weak around Barry.

              He still kind of hated it.

              Barry just nodded. “If you think you can handle it, who am I to argue?” He got up to get the keys, to open the door.

_When he opens it, knock him out and run,_ a small but persistent voice inside of Oliver said. _You’ll be able to get away. Go somewhere Ra’s can’t get you. Go back to Lian Yu. You know it’s where you belong._

              “Wait,” Oliver said quietly. Barry’s hands hovered near the lock and he looked at Oliver curiously. Oliver did what Barry told him to do after the first time he woke up confused and lashed out. He squeezed his eyes shut. He took three deep breaths. He told himself he was safe.

_My name is Oliver Queen. It always has been and it always will be. Ra’s is dead, and the League isn’t after me. I can trust Barry. Starling City is my home. I’m safe here. I’m safe with Barry._

              He took a couple more deep breaths.

              “Ollie?” Barry said softly, gently.

              Oliver almost hated him when he sounded so kind, so warm. It was hard to swallow that kind of affection anymore. It was hard to understand that it was directed at him. It was like the first night he tried to sleep in a warm bed after the island. Jarring. Confusing.

              “Sorry,” Oliver replied, barely audible. “Sorry. I’m okay.”

              “No need to apologize,” Barry said. He opened the door and knelt on the floor in front of Oliver. He offered his hand.

              Oliver hesitated before squeezing it quickly and pulling away. He still wasn’t comfortable with physical affection, after his time with Ra’s and the League. Something about it felt wrong. But this was Barry.

              Barry bit his tongue. He pulled his hand slowly back to his knee. He knew it wasn’t personal, that Oliver was trying, but it stung just a little every time. Barry knew, logically, that this would all take time. After everything Oliver had been through over the years, it was frankly shocking that his PTSD and dissociative episodes had taken this long to manifest in a truly detrimental way.

              But all Barry wanted was for Oliver to be okay, to feel better, to be happy. And it was killing him just a little that he couldn’t fix this. For all his powers, for all his heroics, this was something that Barry couldn’t solve on his own. No matter how much he wanted to. This was going to take time and patience and understanding.

              Barry took a breath and sat cross-legged in front of Oliver. He waited a few moments. “Is there anything you need?”

              Oliver just shook his head, his cheeks getting hot. He didn’t want to be taken care of. It made him feel useless.

              “Are you sure?” Barry asked.

              “I’m _fine,_ ” Oliver replied through gritted teeth.

              Barry didn’t want to argue. He just nodded. “Take your time,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. He stood and walked back out, sitting by his food again and leaving the door open. He hoped the space would help, but he really didn’t know what to do. All he could do was try his best.

              “You’re gonna have the apartment to yourself,” Barry said lightly, picking his food back up. He tried to take a bite. “I’m back at work tomorrow. They’re not exactly thrilled with all the time off I’ve been taking.”

              Oliver leaned forward and let out a small chuckle. “Yeah, can’t imagine why.”

              Barry shrugged. “I can’t very well use _being the Flash_ as an excuse.”

              “I don’t think that would go over very well,” Oliver replied.

              Barry stared at his food for a few more seconds. “You know, Ollie, I’m really not hungry anymore.”

              Oliver sighed. “Me neither,” he replied, his voice getting quieter.

              Barry plastered on a grin. “Do you want to go home?”

“I think so,” Oliver said, looking back over at Barry. He let himself feel hopeful for a brief moment.

              Barry felt some relief loosen in his chest. “Then let’s get out of here,” he said warmly. “I’m tired of sleeping on the floor.”

\---

              Oliver stood in the center of the living room, feeling cold. Barry hung back by the door, hesitant.

              The room was the same, which felt even more strange. The air smelled the same, like Barry’s cologne, like cinnamon, like pine, like home. The couch had the same tear on the cushion, the same stain on the left armrest. The coffee table had several empty to-go cups scattered across.

              Everything was the same. It was like he’d never left. Like nothing had ever happened.

              Like the last few weeks had been some horrible, prolonged nightmare.

              Oliver remembered coming back from Lian Yu, with all his new scars and tattoos, with his flashbacks and nightmares and panic attacks. This felt similar, like there was some familiar feeling aching at him, some old scar that had been reopened.

              Where was he even going to sleep?

              _The ground. The couch,_ he told himself. _You can’t sleep in a bed. You don’t deserve it. And what if Barry tries to sleep next to you and you have a nightmare? You could lash out. You could hurt him. You could_ kill _him. You can barely live with yourself as it is._

              “I washed your sheets,” Barry said softly. “Remade your bed. I hope that’s okay.”

              Oliver almost laughed. “I’ll take the couch.”

              Barry took a step forward. He almost touched Oliver’s shoulder, but he pulled back at the last second. “Ollie, don’t be ridiculous,” he replied.

              Oliver shook his head. “Just let me take the couch, Barry.”

              Barry bit his tongue. As Oliver sat on the couch, Barry sat on the floor by the coffee table.

              “So you’re going back to the SCPD tomorrow?” Oliver said quietly.

              Barry nodded.

              “And when are you going back to your other job?” Oliver asked.

              Barry chuckled. “The Flash is on a break.”

              Oliver studied Barry’s face for a moment. All Barry had ever wanted was to be a hero. Now, because of Oliver, he was pulling back from that dream. Oliver tried not to hate himself too much. “Come on, Barry,” he said.

              Barry shook his head. “I’ve been helping out a little. I just… I need a break, you know? I’ll go back.” _Probably._

              “Don’t let me hold you back,” Oliver said, lying down.

              “Never,” Barry said with a small smile. He waited until Oliver fell asleep to go to his room. He left the door open wide.


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Second to last chapter. The story is almost complete.

              Barry was trying to work, trying to just do his job at the SCPD like everything was normal. He couldn’t afford any more sick days. But all he could think about was Oliver. It had been almost a month and Oliver still hadn’t left the apartment on his own. Oliver, sitting at home, alone, nowhere to go. Barry hated that he couldn’t be there.

              He thought of calling Oliver, but he was worried about the sudden noise. He was worried about everything. He knew that hovering over Oliver, keeping a close watch on him, wasn’t necessarily the best way to help, but he just didn’t know what to do.

              Oliver had been hurt too much. Too many times. He obviously had PTSD from all his trauma, but what could they do? He couldn’t seek help without spilling all his secrets or lying to a therapist. And Oliver wasn’t about to go get psychiatric help anyway, regardless of what Barry thought. Oliver’s pride sometimes got the best of him.

_Maybe I should just head home early._ It was wishful thinking. He was on thin ice at his job as it was. He’d get fired if he gave them one more reason to do it. And then where would he and Oliver be?

              Barry had been staring at the same page of a report for much too long, lost in his thoughts. He hadn’t processed a word of what he was trying to read.

              He just thought about the first morning after Oliver had returned to the apartment, thought about how stiff and awkward it had been.

              _Barry lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. He’d been awake for a while, but he couldn’t bring himself to get up yet. He was too nervous. He kept trying to get up, kept trying to hold onto some normalcy. Go make coffee, sit in the living room._

_He had to go to work soon. He took a deep breath, prepared to walk on the eggshells he needed to. Life didn’t stop for anything._

_It was time to return to the world, go back to work, try to get used to all this. He couldn’t hover over Oliver forever._

_Barry pushed himself out of bed, walking slowly and quietly into the living room. Oliver was sitting on the floor, staring into a mug. Barry noticed the second mug next to it._

_“You made me coffee?” he asked softly._

_Oliver’s gaze snapped up, surprised. He quickly looked away again. “Yeah, uh. I couldn’t sleep much, so…”_

_“Oh,” Barry replied. He sat next to Oliver taking a sip of the now-lukewarm coffee._

_“Sorry, I wasn’t sure when you’d be up,” Oliver said._

_Barry smiled. “Thank you.” He almost leaned forward to kiss Oliver before he caught himself. He really had to pay more attention to that._

_Oliver scratched the back of his neck self-consciously. “When do you have to leave for work?”_

_Barry checked the time and sighed. “Soon.”_

_Oliver shot Barry a look. “You can’t be late on your first day back.”_

_Barry just shrugged. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”_

_Oliver glared and Barry laughed. At least this seemed more like Oliver was getting back to his usual self._

_Barry rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll go, then,” he said, feigning annoyance. Everything felt so normal that Barry forgot himself for a moment. He almost kissed Oliver again, and this time, he actually leaned forward._

_He stopped himself quickly. Maybe the change in location was bringing back habits. “Sorry,” he said with a small smile._

_Oliver gave a quick smile, looking a little embarrassed. He didn't say anything. Barry bit his tongue._

Barry was abruptly brought back to reality when his phone rang. Panic rose inside him for a moment, _what if something happened to Oliver,_ but he could breathe a sigh of relief when he saw the caller ID.

“Hey, Cisco.”

_“Hey man, remember how we helped you with the League?”_ Cisco’s voice came back.

Barry paused. “Yeah,” he replied hesitantly.

_“Yeah, well, now we need your help,”_ Cisco said.

Barry bit the inside of his cheek. Cisco’s voice sounded strained, like it was really urgent and dire, but… “I can’t really… leave Starling right now. I’m close to losing my job, and then there’s Oliver…”

_“Look, dude, I know. You know I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t really serious.”_

Barry stifled a sigh, bringing his fingers to his forehead. His concerns were still preoccupied with Oliver. “Okay, I’ll bite. What is it?”

_“Captain Cold is back,”_ Cisco said.

“That sounds like something you can handle,” Barry replied.

_“Barry, you didn’t let me finish. He and a group of bad metas have, like… organized. They’re all working together right now. The police are in over their heads, and so are we. They’re calling themselves the Rogues, and…”_ Cisco sighed through the phone. _“At first, they were just robbing banks and jewelry stores, mostly. But they’re racking up a body count, man. We have no way to fight all these guys.”_

Barry didn’t say anything for a few moments. He sorted through different ways to say he was sorry, but he couldn’t, he wished them the best. This was obviously a dire situation. They _needed_ him. But so did Oliver, and Oliver was _here._ “Cisco, I just…” Barry started. “I can’t take any more time off work.”

_“Yeah, about that. Remember how Joe asked you to move back here? Remember how you said you’d think about it?”_ Cisco replied. _“The CCPD would gladly give you your job back. Seriously, dude. We need you. I wouldn’t be asking if we didn’t.”_

“Let me just…” Barry said. He trailed off, staring blankly down at the growing pile of files he still had to get through. “Can I call you back? I just need…”

_“Some time, sure, yeah,”_ Cisco said, his voice tight. _“Let me know what you decide.”_

              Barry hung up the phone, rubbing his temples. He sighed, feeling the pressure all around him. He wasn’t sure he could handle all this. He loved being the Flash. He _wanted_ to be the Flash. All he ever wanted was to help people, to be a hero and make the world a better place.

              He wasn’t sure how to do that anymore. And he didn’t want to make Oliver feel like he’d have to put the mask back on, either. If he went back to being the Flash, it might tempt Oliver back into being the Green Arrow. And then where would they be?

              He tried to work, but his eyes kept glazing over as he felt his priorities being pulled in different directions.

              He could only really imagine two lives:

One where he and Oliver lived like civilians, got jobs, got a dog, maybe even got married somewhere down the line. The life they’d distantly daydreamed about, running away to Coast City, living a normal life. Just being Oliver and Barry.

              Or one where they never quit being vigilantes. They were a team. Flash and the Arrow, fighting crime by night. Never settling down too much, keeping on their toes, protecting their city.

              Barry didn’t want to say it out loud—he was barely able to admit it to himself—but he didn’t know if either of those lives were possible. He couldn’t visualize himself in that first life, where he didn’t use his powers for good. And he didn’t want to subject Oliver to that second life, not after everything Oliver had been through.

He tried to fit the two together, a life where Oliver got to be normal, got to live in the light, didn't have secrets. A life where Barry still got to be a hero, still got to use his powers to help people. He tried to tie these two pictures together, but they just wouldn't fit. Like pieces from different puzzles. 

              Barry leaned back in his chair, looking at the ceiling. Just what were they supposed to do here?

\---

              Oliver kept very still on the couch, focusing on his breathing. The nightmare had been worse than usual. Ra’s was there, as Ra’s always is. It used to be that he could tell what was real based on whether Ra’s was there—when he was stuck in the League, that was the one constant.

              Now, he had to really focus to tell. Everything seemed equally real or dreamlike at a certain point.

It had been over a month. Oliver was getting so tired of all this. He wanted some kind of quick fix, some kind of do-over that would make him bypass all the trauma he’d been through.

              Hadn’t it been bad enough to go through it once anyway? Why did every day have to remind him, have to bring back those memories, have to make him relive every painful moment?

              Barry told him often that he was safe. Oliver wasn’t convinced he’d ever feel safe again. The League had tortured him, abused him, controlled him. How was he ever supposed to feel safe after that?

The time he spent with the League brought back every trauma he’d repressed from the island, too.  All this time, all this distance, and now it always felt like every moment had just happened. Like it was yesterday that he’d watched his father commit suicide so that he could live.

              _God, why couldn’t it have been me?_ Oliver thought, automatically. Like always.

              He squeezed his eyes shut again, pushing away that feeling. _You don’t mean that,_ he told himself calmly. _You don’t really wish you were dead._

              But some days were better than others, and today, he wasn’t so sure. On days like this, he could tell himself over and over again that he was lucky to be alive, that his survival meant something, but it was all just empty words at a certain point. Oliver was just so tired.

              He kept thinking about who he was before Lian Yu, that boy who had gotten on a boat to get away from his commitments and responsibilities. The boy who’d run to his mother when he found out he’d gotten a girl—a girl he wasn’t dating—pregnant. The boy who dropped out of schools, spent all his time and money on parties, who barely noticed anything that didn’t involve him.

              On days like this, Oliver almost missed that boy. That selfish, insignificant, vapid frat boy, the one who had life handed to him and didn’t even care. The one who squandered opportunities, who was never close to grateful enough for what he had.

              But at least that boy wasn’t damaged. Oliver hated feeling this way, like he'd never be put back together.

              He still hadn’t been able to bring himself to sleep in a bed. It was such a small, simple thing, and it felt impossible. Barry hadn’t pushed or anything, hadn’t insisted or tried to tell Oliver what to do. But Oliver could almost feel how hopeless Barry must feel about the whole thing.

              Oliver couldn’t help but feel like all he was doing is causing problems in Barry’s life. Like no matter what, Barry would be so much better off without him around.

              _Maybe Barry should’ve just gone back to Central City when he had the chance. You never should’ve asked him to stay. You ruined his life._

Oliver rolled over on his side, miserably staring at the coffee table. It was going to be a bad day. He could already tell. All nightmares and darkness and self-pity. In movies, once the bad guy was dead, the story was over. Oliver wished he’d been so lucky.

              _What proof do you have that Ra’s is dead? He could still come back. He’s just waiting until you’re lulled into a false sense of security. Any second now._

              Oliver squeezed his eyes shut. _Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP._ He knew that the irrational thoughts were just that—irrational. They were echoes of the fear that Ra’s had given him. But they still wouldn’t _go away._

              He told himself that it was getting better. Just because the progress was slow doesn’t mean it’s not progress. That’s what Laurel had said—small steps are still steps, give yourself credit, at least you don’t believe those thoughts anymore.

              Oliver sighed, finally pulling himself up off the couch. Maybe he just needed some water. Or some food.

              _Or some shots of vodka._

              Oliver rubbed his eyes, flashes of his nightmare still coming up in his mind. Oliver had seen enough horrific things he could unsee to last a lifetime, so his nightmares had quite a lot to work with. It was less than ideal.

              Maybe today, he could leave the apartment. Maybe today he could get it together enough to go to a fucking coffee shop or a burger place. Maybe today, he could function like a normal person. Maybe.

              Or maybe he would just sit on the couch staring at the wall all day, feeling like he was really  _here,_  like Oliver had been left behind on Lian Yu and he was just a shell.Yeah, maybe that.

\---

              Barry hadn’t gotten much more work done. He spent a fair amount of time spinning his pencil, staring into nothing, trying to picture a viable future with Oliver. Trying to imagine how they could still be together. His mind kept forcing him back to the obvious conclusion: that he and Oliver could only ever be temporary. But he wasn’t going to give up that easily.

              A soft knock on the door shook Barry out of his thoughts. He looked up. Laurel smiled uncertainly from the doorway.

              “You’re making a habit of this,” Barry said.

              Laurel took that as an invitation, carrying in the bags from Big Belly Burger. She sat down next to him, offering him the food. “It’s been a few weeks, Barry.”

              “I know,” he replied.

              “Has Oliver…” she began.

              He shook his head. “I’m not sure he’s ever going to put the hood back on.”

              Laurel sighed. “Which means that you…”

              “I’m sorry,” Barry said. Laurel had gotten back into the routine of coming to his office once a week to inquire about his plans. She and the team were doing just fine on their own, so this time, Barry supposed it was more from concern for him than concern for the city. Though Laurel was kind enough not to come out and say that.

              “The city is wondering where the Flash went,” Laurel replied. She shot him a look. _“Again.”_

              Barry smiled, pulling his burger out of the bag. “We’ve got plenty of vigilantes here. Speaking of, has Nyssa made a decision?”

              “Yeah,” Laurel said softly. She curled a lock of hair around her finger, trying to hide a smile. “She’s staying.”

              “Yeah? What about the League?”

              She shook her head. “Nyssa disbanded it. No more League of Assassins.” Laurel didn’t tell him the amount of time Nyssa had spent pacing the length of Laurel’s apartment, frowning into the ground, as she agonized over her actions and her decisions. Laurel always thought that Nyssa had been far too good for the fate she’d been giving, and the amount of grief it had caused her just served to confirm that further.

              "Wow,” Barry said, leaning back in his chair. “Hard to believe.”

              “Already a way better leader than her father ever was,” Laurel said, smiling.

              “Can’t argue with that,” Barry replied. He couldn’t help but think about how superfluous he and Oliver would be, if they ever did go back to that life, with Laurel and Nyssa in charge in Starling City. Cisco’s phone call came back up in his mind.

              Laurel cocked her head to the side, looking at Barry carefully. “How’s he doing?” she asked, her voice dropping.

              Barry smiled, a little sadly. Really, he wished he knew more. Wished he had something more concrete to report. “Some days are better than others.”

              “I wish there was something I could do to help,” Laurel said.

              Barry sighed. “Don’t we all.”

              Laurel offered a small smile. “He’s not the easiest person to help,” she told him gently.

              Barry shook his head. “Still wish there was more I could do.”

              Laurel couldn’t really find anything she could say to that. She just squeezed Barry’s shoulder.

\---

              Barry got to the door, trying to be as quiet and slow with his movements as possible. He’d gotten into a fairly effective rhythm, where his movements would warn Oliver before the door opened.

              It was dark when he got inside. He flicked on the light to see Oliver on the floor, looking up at the ceiling.

              “Well, hey there,” Barry said, closing and locking the door behind him. He joined Oliver on the floor, sitting cross-legged next to him. “How was your day?”

              Oliver sighed. “Diggle and Thea both came by to check on me.” He leaned up onto his elbows. “Did you send them?”

              Barry put up his arms. “Don’t look at me. It’s not my fault people care about your well-being.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow at him before lying back down, his arm tucked under his head. “I am getting tired of everyone treating me like I can’t handle this on my own.”

              Barry squeezed Oliver’s forearm. He noticed Oliver tense a little at the touch, and pulled his hand away slowly, trying to not draw attention to it. “Everyone knows you’re going to be okay. You’re strong. They just want to be there for you, that’s all.”

              Oliver glanced at Barry, looking a little apologetic. “I know that I’m sulking. I’m sorry, it just… hasn’t been a great day.”

              “Want to talk about it?” Barry asked, leaning forward.

              “Not particularly,” came Oliver’s now standard reply. Then he paused, licking his lips. “It was just another nightmare, that’s all.”

              “I’m sorry,” Barry said softly. He cupped the side of Oliver’s face, brushing his cheek with his thumb.

              Oliver shook his head. “It’s nothing. How was work?”

              His voice was almost robotic. Barry tensed his jaw. “Same as always.” He started to continue when his phone rang. He glanced at Oliver, a little worried, but Oliver hadn’t flinched.

              He looked down at his phone and frowned. “It’s Iris,” he said.

              “Well, get it,” Oliver replied.

              Barry hesitated. He just stared at the name on the screen. “Cisco called earlier,” he said. He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t move.

              “It’s probably important,” Oliver said. He pulled himself up, shooting Barry a look. “Don’t ignore Central City on my account.”

              Oliver walked off to kitchen, leaving Barry on the floor.

              Barry sighed. He didn’t want to go through this.

              But he answered. “Iris, hey.”

              _“I know Cisco called you earlier—”_ she started.

              “Yeah, and as I told him, I haven’t—” he replied.

              _“This isn’t about that,”_ she interrupted quickly. _“Not exactly, I’m not… I’m not calling to try and talk you into it or anything.”_

               Barry paused. “Then what is it?” he asked cautiously.

              Iris sighed, sounding a little shaky. _“It’s Eddie. He’s, um… He’s missing.”_

              “Wait, what?”

              “ _We think the Rogues got him.”_ She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and Barry heard her sniffle. _“Please, Barry, we need your help here. I need your help. I can’t…”_

               “Okay, I’ll be there,” Barry said softly. “I’m on my way.”

              “ _Thank you,”_ Iris sniffed.

              Barry stared at the phone for a few moments after hanging up. His hand was almost shaking. He looked up to see Oliver leaning in the doorway of the kitchen.

              “Ollie, I—” he started, almost apologetically.

              Oliver shook his head. “I know. Go ahead, they need you way more than I do,” he replied, his voice gentle. He smiled. “I’ll be fine, I swear.”

              Barry paused. He knew that. He knew that Oliver would be okay. But he couldn’t help the deep fear that he’d come back to an empty apartment or a dead body. He knew that Oliver had it under control, but…

              “I’ll be back as soon as possible,” Barry said.

              “Don’t worry about me,” Oliver said, He cocked his head towards the door. “Go.”

              Barry ran out before he could talk himself out of it.

\---

              S.T.A.R. Labs was in bad shape. Iris looked ready to pull her hair out as she paced in the room. Joe had a few folders in front of him, the one on top labelled _Leonard Snart._ Cisco and Caitlin huddled over the computer.

              It looked like none of them had slept in days.

              “Barry,” Iris said when he walked in, throwing her arms around him.

              Barry hugged her tightly. “It’ll be okay,” he murmured in her ear, squeezing her shoulder. He pulled back, looking at the room. “So what do we have?”

              “The Rogues got Eddie,” Iris said, like she’d told him on the phone.

              “He was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Joe reported. “And Snart knows that Eddie has an affiliation with the S.T.A.R. Labs team.”

“And that we’re the only ones that have gotten close to stopping the Rogues,” Cisco interjected.

              “They took Eddie to split our attention,” Joe said. “We weren’t paying attention to what they were doing, we were just looking for Eddie, and…”

              “They went after the Rathaways,” Cisco said.

              Barry frowned and crossed his arms. “The who now?”

              Cisco sighed. “Pied Piper? Hartley _Rathaway?”_

              “His parents?” Barry asked.

              “Yeah,” Cisco replied. “Leonard Snart is expanding his horizons. The Rathaways were coming in with some expensive painting, right? So Captain Cold and Heatwave steal the painting, worth a fortune—and meanwhile, some of the other Rogues got the Rathaways. They’re missing now.”

              “So Eddie and the Rathaways. It was Hartley?”

              Cisco nodded. “Among others. We don’t actually know all the Rogues yet. We’re… We’re working on it.”

              “How many of them are there?”

              Joe and Iris glanced at one another.

              “Well, uh, we don’t know,” Joe said slowly. “The police had some incomplete files, but they’re not much help. Just what’s left over since one of the Rogues managed to steal most of what we had.”

              Barry leaned back on the table. “So we just have a group of criminals with powers terrorizing the city, taking whatever they want?”

              “With no one to stop them but us,” Cisco added.

              “Have you guys met a single _good_ metahuman?” Barry asked, getting exasperated. The chaos is Starling City he just went through was bad enough.

              “Since you?” Joe said. “No. Trust me, Iris has been looking into it. Against our advice.” Iris shot him a glare.

              “We still haven’t even found Ronnie,” Caitlin said quietly. “That’s what Eddie was doing. He was still helping me look for him when the police got called and…” She trailed off, looking at the ground.

              “We have no idea where Eddie could be,” Iris said, her voice quiet and shaky. She looked like she had tears ready to fall. It made Barry want to cry, too.

              He reached out to touch her arm. “We’ll find him,” he promised softly. Iris just nodded, eyes glued to the floor.

              “That’s what we called you here for,” Cisco said. He leaned forward in his chair. “We need to keep following the Rogues, figure out where they’re going to hit next, not to mention help the police find the Rathaways. You gotta find Eddie.”

              Barry nodded. “Got it. What do we have?”

              “We have several possible locations for where the Rogue base is,” Caitlin chimed in. “Warehouses on the edge of the city, abandoned buildings, known hideouts for any particular member of the team. It’s a lengthy list.”

              Barry took a deep breath. Back to work, right?

\---

              Oliver stared at his phone, his thumb hovering over Diggle's name. He scrolled and let his thumb hover over Thea's name for a while. Then Laurel's. 

              He knew, logically, that he should probably call someone. He had some vague understanding that if he didn't want to be alone, there was probably good reason for it and he should find someone to help. 

              He also knew that if the roles were reversed, he'd give any one of his friends that advice. He'd tell them to call him if they needed him, and he'd be there. 

              But that was the thing, wasn't it? He was supposed to be the strong one. They were all supposed to be able to rely on him. They were supposed to trust that he was always going to be okay, he was never supposed to need them back. Wasn't that the problem? Oliver wasn't allowed to be the one who needed help. He was the masked hero. The city could call upon him, and trust that he'd never ask that the favor be returned. 

              He sighed. He put his phone down. He picked it up again. He turned it off. 

              The world felt a little hazy. A little monotonous. It had been like this for a while, but sometimes it was worse. This was one of those times. Oliver felt disconnected from the world. WHen he was with the League, there was a place he went when he could handle what was happening to him. It was a place far away, where none of this was real. Even though he wasn't in Nanda Parbat anymore, he felt pulled back to that place a lot. 

              Like it was where he was supposed to be. That is to say, nowhere. 

              Like Lian Yu. Purgatory. Some thick fog where he could barely hear the sounds around him. Where nothing that had happened to him was real. Where he wasn't real. 

              He almost reached for his phone again. Maybe he could call Thea. 

_No. You don't deserve help. You shouldn't need it. This is pathetic._

              Oliver took a deep, shaky breath. He turned his phone back on. 

              He let his thumb hover over Diggle's name. He didn't press it. 

\---

              In Central City, crime had skyrocketed in the past several months, due in large part to Snart and his team. Barry could see how S.T.A.R. Labs was struggling, how they were all drowning under the weight of what they had to deal with. They couldn’t be everywhere at once, but it seemed like the Rogues could.

              Leonard Snart had compiled a group of Rogues with powers and abilities that the police had no method of dealing with. How could you catch a bank robber that could slow down the world around him? Or a girl who could teleport in and out of prisons, bringing inmates with her? There was so little that they could do.

              Not to mention how the Rogues had caught on to how their only true adversary was S.T.A.R. Labs. They had enough manpower to keep S.T.A.R. Labs distracted and stretched thin. They could send two or three metas to go keep Cisco and Caitlin and Iris occupied while the rest of them robbed and vandalized and more recently, kidnapped and murdered.

              They were stealing private jets from the Rathaways along with the painting, and S.T.A.R. Labs almost stopped them, so they took Eddie as a distraction. They knew they could. And Barry knew that it wouldn't be easy to stop them. The Rogues knew how they could keep everyone out of their way. Pied Piper sent taunts and hints about Ronnie and his whereabouts. Heatwave and Peek-A-Boo could set so many fires across the city that almost all the fire departments were occupied while the Trickster set bombs. It was chaos. It was always chaos. 

              Snart was the most in control, the closest to being a leader. But even he couldn’t keep all the metas in check. So the Rathaways went missing, the Rogues started leaving a trail of bodies, the prisons had a hard time keeping the convicts inside. Central City was in trouble.

              Even with Barry there, they were barely able to stop a jewel heist on one end of town, a bombing on the other, and retrieve Eddie in the middle. They managed it for the most part, with two casualties on the side of the police department and handful of stolen jewels. It felt more like a loss than a win, even with Eddie saved.

              Barry, Cisco, Caitlin, and Joe regrouped at S.T.A.R. Labs, tired and drained, and all Barry could do was keep going over that brief, paralyzing interaction with Snart—

_“Well, well, well,” Captain Cold drawled. “If it isn’t our absentee hero, the Flash.”_

_“Here to stop you,” Barry retorted, pacing in a large, slow circle around him._

_“What makes you think you can come in here and run the show?” Snart shot back, a smirk growing. “Go back to Starling, where you belong. This is our place now.”_

_“I’m not going to let you terrorize this city,” Barry replied. He bit the inside of his cheek. He was trying to sound confident, but he was outnumbered. And deep down, it did kind of feel like Leonard Snart was right. What right did Barry have to come back here and play hero? He’d been gone. This wasn’t his city. The Rogues ran it now. Barry was a guest._

_“So S.T.A.R. Labs just calls you up when they’re in over their heads and you just come running,” Snart continued. “Cute. And what does your boss think? Or is the Arrow retiring?”_

_Barry clenched his jaw._

_“Cold, hurry it up,” Heatwave growled at him. “We have to get out of here.”_

_Snart kept his eyes on Barry. “Feel free to leave my city at any time,” he said, his tone smug and sure._

_“Snart,” Hartley snapped, hovering near the door where the others had just run out._

_Snart waved them off and then waited until Hartley and Heatwave were out of the building. “Until next time, Bartholomew,” he said, quietly enough that no one else could hear. “Give my regards to Oliver Queen. I hear he’s good with a bow.” And with that, Captain Cold turned and stalked out._

_Barry froze in place as Snart left. His heart dropped into his stomach._ He knows who I am. He knows who Oliver is _, Barry thought, distressed._ How could he know?

              “We got Eddie back,” Cisco said, snapping Barry out of his thoughts. Cisco sighed, leaning back in his chair, his eyes closed. “That’s what’s important. Eddie is safe.”

              Barry clenched his jaw. He hadn’t said anything about Snart knowing his identity. He didn’t want anyone to know. It felt safer, somehow, if it was a shared secret between him and Captain Cold. No one else needed to know the power that Snart could hold over him now.

              _Or Oliver._  

              “Eddie and Iris are back at their place,” Joe reported after getting off the phone with Iris. “They’re going to take a short break from helping us.”

              “Just what we need,” Caitlin muttered to herself. “Fewer people helping.”

              "I think they've earned a break," Joe replied, just a little harshly. "Don't you?"

              Caitlin pursed her lips. "That's not what I meant."

              Barry leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. He could feel the right thing to do. Even with him there, the S.TA.R. Labs team was stretched thin. His help still didn’t even out the odds, but it got the scales closer at least.

              Team Arrow had barely missed him. Or Oliver, for that matter. The Starling City vigilantes did just fine on their own, where the criminals didn’t have superpowers and their numbers were more fair.

              Laurel and Ray alone could probably handle the whole city if they needed to, at least for a little while if everyone else needed breaks. With Nyssa and Thea having just joined, too, the foundry was plenty full.

              But Barry kept biting his tongue. What about _Oliver?_

              He supposed he’d have to ask the man himself. Barry couldn’t help but feel like Oliver needed him to stay out of the vigilante business, but he suspected that might be more of a comfort to Barry than anything else. It’s not like Oliver really needed full time care or anything. Barry was just always so worried.

              Central City needed help. More than Starling City. Barry remembered how one of the reasons he moved in the first place was because he was sure he could do more good in Starling City than in Central. And now he supposed that’s what he’d done.

              Maybe he had accomplished all he needed to in Starling. Maybe he needed to go back and help the place he’d left behind.

              _But what about Oliver?_ The voice nagged.

              He’d have to figure that out later.

\---

              Barry got home a quarter after one in the morning. A few of the lights were still on and there was Oliver, sprawled out on the couch, staring at the ceiling. Wide awake. He didn’t move as Barry closed the door, didn’t show any indication of realizing that Barry was home.

              Barry suppressed a sigh. He didn’t like the thought of Oliver just sitting in silence all alone. Or not being able to sleep. Here they were, and Barry couldn’t help but think how clearly _exhausted_ they both were.

              He walked over to the couch, leaning on it a little. “Hey there,” he said gently.

              “You don’t have to use that tone, you know,” Oliver said, his voice clipped.

              Barry raised an eyebrow. “Neither do you,” he replied, hardening his voice as best he could. Truthfully, his gentleness and his sympathy ended up making himself feel better more than it helped Oliver. He knew this, but it was hard to break the habit.

              Oliver chuckled, brightened just enough to make Barry feel warmer. He smiled up at Barry. “Fair enough. Sorry.” He pulled himself up to a seated position, making room for Barry on the couch. “How was Central City?”

              Barry sighed and shook his head as he sat down.

              Oliver inhaled sharply. “That bad?”

              “They’ve got a team of metahuman villains down there now,” Barry told him.

              Oliver paused, tensing just slightly. “That sounds pretty bad,” he said, enunciating a little too much. He had a sense that he knew what was coming and he tried to will himself to stay stoic.

              “Yeah, it is,” Barry said. He paused, glancing at Oliver quickly. “They, uh, they asked me to move back again.”

              Oliver pressed his lips in a straight line. “If that’s what you feel you need to do,” he said, slowly and carefully, like he was choosing his words very deliberately.

              Barry felt flustered. It was so like Oliver to have barely a  _reaction_ to this kind of thing. “Well, I mean, Laurel has come so far, and they’ve got such a team up here—Starling City doesn’t have metahumans, anyway, and S.T.A.R. Labs is so overworked, I just thought—” he rambled.

              Oliver gave a tense smile and put his hand up. “No, I get it. I do. I understand.”

              “You do?” Barry said, narrowing his eyes. Oliver seemed stressed.

              Oliver nodded. “Of course. You shouldn’t feel obligated to stay on my account. I can handle this fine, I have my sister—”

              “Wait, Ollie—”

              “And Diggle and Laurel, and maybe I can go back to being the Arrow in time—”

              “Ollie, hold on a second—”

              “I’m doing pretty well, now, anyway…” Oliver continued, before trailing off.

              Barry smiled. “No, Oliver, I’m asking you to come with me. I won’t go without you.”

              Oliver stopped, looking almost bewildered. Barry almost wanted to laugh. Or cry. After all this, Oliver continued to be surprised at how much Barry loved him. Barry didn’t know how he could make himself any more clear about his intentions.

              "Go with you to Central City," Oliver said flatly.

              Barry nudged Oliver’s knee, his smile growing into a grin. “We could get a dog, you know.”

              Oliver almost smiled.

              Barry didn’t tell him about Captain Cold. He didn’t need anything else to worry about it. Barry would take care of it. He’d protect Oliver. No one had to know.

              Leonard Snart knew the kind of power he held over Barry. Barry would just figure it out himself. Oliver had done so much for everyone else, had spent so long hiding everything he’d done to protect everyone. Wasn’t it his turn?

              Barry could handle it, anyway.

\---

              Thea and Roy had moved in together. Oliver supposed that he’d already known this, but knowing it and seeing it were two different things. Thea’s loft no longer looked like a teenage girl’s image of an apartment to him.

              Sure, she still had her make up and hair products in a disorganized pile by the sink, just like she’d done at their family house. But now men’s cologne and shaving equipment sat next to it. Was Roy even old enough to need to shave?

              Oliver stared at his reflection in the mirror, above this messy display of a new couple living together for the first time. He looked tired. He looked _old._ He barely recognized himself. Though he guessed that could be from the dissociation due to the trauma or from how drained he’d been.

              Nothing seemed right, anyway. He still had that nagging feeling that he was in the wrong place. That he was impersonating some loving brother, friend, boyfriend. Some kind, gentle man who deserved the love that surrounded him. It felt like he was only filling in until the real man returned.

              Logically, he understood that this wasn’t the truth. He was Oliver Queen, Thea’s brother, Diggle’s friend, Barry’s boyfriend. He knew these things, but he only barely felt them. Looking in the mirror at the unfamiliar face seemed to feed into his belief that he didn’t belong.

              He splashed some water into his face. He had to get himself under control. Barry had told Thea their plans—how pathetic was it that he couldn’t even do something as simple as that—and Thea and Roy had invited him over to lunch to say goodbye.

              He found himself staring at the running water, trying to calm himself down by breathing slowly. He didn’t like how he felt. He never really did anymore.

              Maybe a change in location would be better, but if he was being honest, Oliver didn’t really envision a future where anything ever got better.

              He finally went back out to the table, the remnants of the lunch Roy had made for them still there.

              Thea perked up when he got there, smiling. “So Ollie,” she started. “When are you two leaving?”

              Oliver shrugged. “I’m not really sure. When Barry gets his job in order, I guess.”

              “And you’re sure you want to go?” Roy asked, his voice a little softer than usual.

              Oliver noticed how it seemed like Roy was more upset at his imminent departure than Thea. “Yeah, I think so,” Oliver said. He rubbed the back of his neck. “You and Laurel have everything under control, don’t you?”

              Roy bit his lip. “Yeah, I mean, I guess. Are you really never going to be the Arrow again?”

              Oliver paused. _No way can I ever put that mask back on,_ he found himself thinking almost automatically. “I don’t know,” he told Roy.

              Thea leaned over, squeezing Oliver’s arm. “Don’t be a stranger. We’ll be visiting often,” she promised.

              Oliver couldn’t help but notice the _we,_ like Thea and Roy were a unit now. Like they were really serious about each other. His chest hurt a little, thinking about his baby sister being in a serious relationship.

              “You’re welcome any time,” he said, trying to smile. Thea smiled back.

              _Everything is going to be okay,_ Oliver tried to tell himself. He repeated it like a mantra.

\---

              Barry sat in the foundry with Laurel, the silence growing a little awkward.

              Laurel finally broke it. “So you’re leaving, then?” she asked quietly.

              Barry nodded.

              “Are you sure?” Laurel looked sad, and Barry’s heart hurt.

              “I’ll come back whenever you need me,” Barry assured her. “I’ll only be a phone call away.”

              Laurel sighed, leaning back in her chair. “I know it’s a little selfish, but I just don’t want you to go.”

              Barry squeezed her hand. “I’ll miss you, too.” He paused. “Central City really isn’t that far.”

              Laurel shook her head. “No, I know. And I get it, you know. Central City needs the Flash.”

              “Looks that way,” Barry replied.

              “What about SCPD?” Laurel asked.

              “I gave my notice,” Barry told her. “And I got my job at CCPD back. Everything… Everything is set up now. Oliver and I have an apartment down there now.”

              Laurel smiled. “One bedroom?”

              Barry rolled his eyes. “You have a one bedroom, right? Where’s Nyssa sleeping again?”

              Laurel coughed, looking away. She sighed. “I guess we won’t be Team Arrow anymore,” she said.

              Barry decided to let her get away with the subject change. “Oliver always hated that name, anyway.”

              Laurel laughed a little. “We’ll have to find a new name.”

              “I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” Barry replied, offering a smile. “Good luck, Black Canary.”

              Laurel squeezed Barry’s arm, smiling back. “Same to you, Flash.”


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The short and sweet conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading and following this story. This was my first fic for this fandom and on this website, and I've had a wonderful time writing it and reading all your lovely comments. This story has taken me a little over a year to complete, and I'm pretty happy with the result. I hope you are, too. 
> 
> Though this story is finished, I have a sequel planned and started. I hope that anyone who liked this story and wanted more reads that one when it begins. 
> 
> Thank you all again, I'm very grateful.

              Here’s exactly how it went.

              Barry got his job back at the CCPD. He quit the SCPD. He apologized to Quentin, who assured him that it was fine, that he’d gladly be a reference for Barry any time. He thanked Barry for the part he’d played in finding Sara’s killer, thanked him for what he’d done for Laurel.

              Barry almost cried, a little surprised at how emotional he was getting over leaving. Starling City had been his home for a year, and he’d grown attached to the place. He was having a harder time leaving than he had all those months ago when he left Central City.

              He supposed it was because he was doing it differently. When he left Central City, he waited until the last minute to tell anyone. This time, he’d gone through multiple goodbyes over the course of a couple weeks. Diggle and Lyla had the whole team over for a farewell dinner. The leaving process was dragging.

              Barry and Oliver packed up the apartment slowly. They had small petty arguments over what furniture to bring or to sell. Barry wanted to keep the coffee table and the couch, arguing for the sentimental value. Oliver wanted to sell them, figuring it would just be easier to buy new furniture rather than transport it.

              They went with Oliver’s point. Barry conceded because he worried that the positive sentimental value he had for everything might not translate into Oliver’s experience. He worried that Oliver might associate negative memories with them. Oliver was only trying to be objective and practical.

              Oliver contacted Iris, who got him her old job at Jitters. She was working as a reporter, but she’d left the coffee shop on good terms and put in a good word for him with the managers. Barry stood by what he’d said before, that Oliver had no idea what he was in for with customer service.

              Truth be told, Oliver figured it would probably be at least a little miserable, serving people coffee. But he was secretly kind of excited for that. He wanted to experience the normalcy of being irritated with customer service. After his last job, it seemed like such a comfort. He wanted to complain to his coworkers when the customers weren’t listening. He wanted to leave work at the end of the day, maybe tired, maybe stressed, but at least relieved his shift was over.

              Oliver and Barry got everything in order—their new apartment, their respective day jobs, Barry even looked into getting a dog. There was one topic they hadn’t gotten around to discussing: how they were going to handle Barry being the Flash and Oliver not being the Arrow.

              Barry didn’t know if Oliver ever planned on returning to the vigilante life. Oliver didn’t know how often Barry planned to work with S.T.A.R. Labs. Neither one of them brought it up.

              Then moving day came. Their time in Starling City was up. It was time to move forward.

 

              Oliver took one last lingering look at the empty apartment. Here was the place where he only thought he’d spend a night or two. Here was the place where Barry Allen had so kindly offered him a home. Here was the place where he’d come back from the dead to a man that loved him, where Barry had kissed him, where they’d slept together for the first time.

              He looked at the empty living room with fondness, his hand resting on the door frame gently. Here was a place where he hadn’t stayed for very long, but where he’d had so many warm, happy memories that he was only getting used to grasping at again.

              Barry put a hand on his shoulder, smiling warmly. “You ready to go have some new adventures?”

              “Absolutely,” Oliver replied, taking a breath. He smiled back at Barry. It seemed to him like things were finally going to be okay. For the first time in so many years, it was all going to be okay.

Barry took his hand and led him out the door, into their new life.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The next chapter will be out soon. Comments are welcome.


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